


What Price Humanity?

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Fraxus [52]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Corruption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fairy Tail Reverse Bang 2020, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Control, Love, M/M, Self-Sacrifice, Tartaros Arc (Fairy Tail), Team as Family, Transformation, demonic transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26490706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: "Get everyone back home…that’s your job.”A calm settled over Freed then, and somehow, he found his way back to his feet. Wavering and unsteady on legs that he doubts will support him for long, and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the darkness across his vision was just the mist filling the area around them. He doesn’t have long, but then he doesn’t need much time, the runes he needs at his fingertips, his purpose a shield and a sword against the encroaching darkness, even as he hears Laxus choking out his name.Freed interprets Laxus' order differently in the wake of the fight with Tempester, choosing to sacrifice himself to ensure that they are safe.The price? His humanity.
Relationships: Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine
Series: Fraxus [52]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1188706
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59
Collections: Fairy Tail Reverse Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2020 Fairy Tail Reverse Big Bang. I was partnered with @crackheadart42 who did this amazing [Artwork](https://crackheadart42.tumblr.com/post/629415479347396608/hey-all-this-is-my-second-and-final-piece-for-the)
> 
> Please note that if you want to talk to me about my fics and writing, or anime/shows/games in general then you can now find me on discord [The Unholy Trinity](https://discord.gg/6sSddAWa5c).

_Now:_

_There are Dragons in the sky above them, a roar that seems to shake the very air as Laxus has a fleeting glimpse of wings and massive forms hurtling past. And there’s lightning sparking around his fingertips again. The magic that had been ebbing away, returning in a flood that threatens to take his breath away. However, instead of feeling relieved, all Laxus feels is dread as a snarl, more threatening than the bellow of the Dragons in the air above them rings out as he straightened and closed his fingers on the lightning._

_“Freed…” Lifting his head, he sees that Freed is on his feet once more and their eyes meet and lock across the space of the crater that has cracked open the ground at their feet. Only it’s not Freed that’s looking back though, the spark of humanity, the flicker of the man he loved that he had convinced himself was there earlier nowhere to be seen in the dark eyes, and bared teeth, and Laxus feels his heart sink anew at the sight._

_Freed…_

_What did they do to you? He wants to ask, but the words won’t come, because beneath it is another question that he doesn’t want to ask, because he knows that he’s not ready to hear the answer. What did we do to you? Because he has no idea how much of this is because of what has happened to Freed during his time with Tartarus.The marks of their mercies written across patterned skin and in the mark that has no place on his partner’s shoulder, and how much it has to do with what Freed had sacrificed for them._

_For him._

_The price paid for them to be standing here, alive and fighting, their magic worn thin but present._

***** ***** *****

Then:

There was blood in his mouth, and whatever relief Freed had felt at the sight of lightning ripping through the air to strike their assailant melted away as he watched Laxus stiffen in alarm as the Dragon-slayer got a good luck at their attacker. _Laxus…_ In all the years he’d known the other man, and everything that they had faced, he had never seen that expression on his partner’s face, not just fear – because while Laxus hid that well, he had caught glimpses of it before. This ran deeper, a terror that had gripped him, colouring the Dragon-slayer’s next words with disbelieving horror. “He’s not human.”

The words were not even aimed at him and yet Freed couldn’t help but flinch a little, and curl in on himself, as though they were barbs that had struck home. Perhaps, it was because they were words he’d heard more times than he cared to count, spat at him in fear and anger and hatred, although never by Laxus or the rest of the Raijinshuu, but enough that they had burned themselves onto his memory. Or, maybe it was because of the Demon stirring just beneath his skin, awake and restless, as it had been since the moment their assailant had walked into Yajima’s restaurant. At the time, it had recoiled, snarling and hissing, almost territorial in its reaction and it had been the reason why Freed had been half expecting that first attack. Then as the man -the Demon, his mind and heart told him now in the wake of Laxus’ words – had spoken, about Tartaros, about hell and about humans as though they were something less, he had realised that beneath it all the Demon was excited.

That it felt a kinship to this person.

That it wanted to fight, but not against him, but against them.

Against Freed.

Against Bickslow and Evergreen who were still caught in the relief of Laxus’ timely arrival.

Against Laxus who had buried his fear, focusing on the fight at hand, lightning lashing against their attacker, and Freed’s hand curled into a fist against his will, and he felt the press of claws against his palm as his Demon fought to free itself from his tight control.

_I won’t let you,_

He had to look away from the fight, gritting his teeth as rather than subsiding as it usually would when he forced his will against it, the Demon lashed out against him, trying to claw its way to freedom. _Why? Was it the mention of demon gates? What was this person? What was he to Freed’s Demon?_ He didn’t like not knowing, having spent a lifetime trying to learn as much about the unwanted complication to his magic as he could so that he could bend it to his control, his rules, and now that was threatening to crumble, and he didn’t understand why. As he looked down, darkness spread across his skin, claw marks appearing and disappearing, leaving a deep, throbbing ache in their wake, but no other proof of their existence. He locked his limbs in place refusing to let it take control, and they battled back and forth in a way that they hadn’t done for years, the sounds of Laxus’ battle fading into the background.

It felt like a lifetime before the Demon subsided. Yet it could have only been a moment at most because the dust was still settling from where Laxus had crushed his opponent into the ground in the middle of the crater that now marked where the restaurant had once been. Freed hesitated before lifting his head, because it was not a retreat, and he feared that if his attention wavered for a moment, the Demon would surge free once more, feeling it snarl deep in his chest as he took in the sight of his partner towering over the other Demon. _Laxus,_ he thought, closing his eyes in relief, startled to realise that at least a part of him had doubted that the Dragon-slayer would come out on top this time, and trying to ignore the fury that wasn’t his that lashed at the tail of that thought.

“Yajima, what should we do with them?” He realised that Laxus was asking, and pushed himself up, startled to realise that the others were already upright, having recovered somewhat from the earlier attacks. However, the same couldn’t be said of the restaurant.

He caught Bickslow studying him for a moment with no sign of his usual grin to be seen, and for half a moment it seemed as there was something far too knowing in his friend’s gaze, as though the Skeith mage knew about the battle he had just waged in his body. Perhaps he was, he knew that Bickslow had been witness to that power struggle more than once, able to see more than the others in that regard, although Evergreen and Laxus were just as aware of that side of his magic. Normally, that didn’t bother him too much, because it was safer for them to know, to be alert in case his control slipped, and he needed them to rein him in, but maybe it was that ‘ _he’s not human’_ or the strange kinship his Demon had with the one in front of them, but today he found himself looking away. Pretending to dust himself off and surreptitiously checking that the claw marks had faded from his arms, as he half-listened to the conversation around him, relieved when he sensed Bickslow’s attention moving away from him.

“The council isn’t functioning right now…” Yajima replied, grim and focused for a moment before his voice rose as he demanded. “How dare he trash my restaurant?”

“The main restaurant, yeah, but you’ve got a lot of other branches, right?” Bickslow asked with a shrug, and Freed felt himself relaxing a little at the conversation and the confirmation that Bickslow was no longer watching him. They were safe, Laxus had won. So why was he still uneasy? As though he was waiting for something else to happen. He frowned, rubbing at his arms as he turned to look at Laxus and his prisoner, expression softening a little as Laxus met his gaze, although the uneasiness remained.

“We should bring him back to Fairy Tail for an interrogation,” he said, finding that he was having to force the words out, a reluctance that didn’t belong to him hampering the words. It was the sensible thing to do, and probably the only way they were going to get answers, and yet he recoiled at the thought of keeping him nearby, the Demon still but watchful in his chest. It wanted him close, he could feel it, and that was all the more reason for him to want him as far away as possible.

“Oh, I kind of like the sound of that,” Evergreen said with a smirk that promised trouble, stopping him from giving in to the temptation to change his mind, and he looked towards her, drawing strength from her confidence as he forced himself to continue. To be practical, rather than give in to the growing desire to put as much distance between himself and this Demon as possible.

“They’re not only after current Council members but past members as well. I’m curious about their motive,” he continued, relieved that his voice was even, not letting his uncertainly bleed through. This was what he was good at, thinking things through, being logical and yet right then he wanted to be anything but rational. He waited, almost hoping for disagreement, even though he knew what he was saying made sense, and Bickslow agreed, and then Evergreen, before they dissolved into bickering with Yajima and Freed hated that it all felt distant, like he was looking in on a different world. _What is going on?_ He thought pressing a hand to his chest, feeling the demon stir once more, just before another voice rang out, and all the hairs on his arms stood on end and not through fear or alarm, but anticipation.

An excitement that wasn’t his.

“Fairy Tail, eh?” Their attention snapped back to the downed Demon and Freed gritted his teeth, fighting his own Demon once more as it tried to surge free. “A human with that kind of magic power wasn’t part of the plan.” _Human…_ there was that distinction again, from the other side this time, and Freed was horrified to feel his Demon practically purr in agreement, delighted at the disdain with which the man had said ‘human’, and his hands curled into fists once more. _I’m human,_ he reminded it sharply. However, the words that had been something of a protective charm ever since he had first learned how to restrain the Demon, felt weak even in the privacy of his own mind, but there’s a quiver to the thought now, a hesitation and this time he’s not sure whether it’s because of him or the Demon. “Unforeseen damage…Do I have to die once?”

_Die…?_

“Die? What the hell are you talking about?” Laxus demanded, and to Freed, it felt as though the air around them had turned still and cold with the promise of something that he didn’t understand. He was already moving, some instinct prompting him forward when the Demon shifted, fixating his partner with a baleful look.

“I mean, you said you were too tough for me, human…” Light flared, blinding them all for a moment and Freed felt it, the change in the air, a shift that was echoed in his chest as the Demon howled and he staggered to a halt, nearly stumbling under the force of it. Breath catching in his chest, as the light fading to reveal that the Demon was gone, dark, purplish tendrils of mist rising across the crater in his place.

“Self-Destruction?!”

“What?!”

“What’s that black smoke?” Freed demanded, watching as it rapidly spread out around them, as though it was hungrily devouring the air itself.

“It keeps spreading!”

“People can’t defeat a disaster.” A voice echoed from the depths of the growing mist, and something about the words resonated with Freed, and he froze, eyes wide, feeling as though he was reaching for a memory that was just out of reach. _People can’t defeat a disaster…_ Why did his heart ache at those words, not fear, but grief… the kind that could rip a person apart from the inside out, and yet he was sure he had never heard that phrase before, and with difficulty he wrenched his attention back to the present, his throat burning as the mist coiled closer. Pressing against him with what felt like a purpose, even as he watched it swirl around the others like a natural mist, sending shivers down his back. “These are magic barrier particles. They contaminate and destroy Ethernano in the air.”

“Anti-Ethernano?” Freed whispered, and the Demon in his chest stilled for a moment, ceasing its attempts to escape for a moment as horrified understanding washed over him, just as it snarled its triumph beneath his skin where only he could hear it.

“They cause magic deficiency disease and magic disability disorder.” The others were doubling over, coughing and gasping, as they frantically covered their mouths and nose, in a desperate attempt to stave it off and Freed mimicked them without thinking. “To wizards, both diseases are fatal. My only weakness is that to reconstitute my own body, I have to return to headquarters. Let’s meet in hell, dead ones.”

_Dead ones…_

“Don’t breathe in the mist,” Freed barked to the others, knowing that the warning was too late, that just as it burned his throat and nose, it was already doing the same to the others. Ice flooding his veins, as he felt the Demon surging forward, pushing against already weakening defences. _No,_ he snarled back, even as his mind raced, realising that he was moving easier than the others even as he felt the effects taking hold. _It attacks magic, but…_ His hand falling away from his mouth, to hang helplessly at his side.

“At this rate, everyone will…” Evergreen whispered.

“The whole town will be contaminated!”

“Everyone escape! Somewhere there’s no mist!” Yajima called, moving to obey his own words and Freed knew even before the older man’s legs gave out and sent him to the ground that it was too late. The Demon knew it too, triumphant in his chest, just waiting now. Waiting for him to follow, for the magic that he used to hold it at bay to fail so it could be free.

“Yajima-san!” Evergreen was the next to fall, trying to reach Yajima and Bickslow was next, clutching at his throat as his knees gave way he collapsed to the ground.

“Wake up! Ever! Bickslow!” Freed found his voice, even as he knew that it wouldn’t work, that his voice wasn’t enough to reach them. Coughing as his throat burned and staggering as he felt the Demon clawing at the inside of his chest, chipping away at his wavering focus, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he was free.

“I won’t let anyone die! No one’s dying here!”

Laxus. Laxus was still upright, although clearly affected too and Freed forgot the Demon for a second as he realised his partner was making no effort to cover his mouth. “Laxus! Keep your mouth shut!” His fingers were already moving, dredging up as much of his waning magic as he could, because he knew that look in Laxus’ eyes. It was the same one when he had agreed to go back for Makarov on Tenroujima, the same expression that appeared whenever he or the others were in danger, a focus, a willingness to do anything to keep them safe. While it usually warmed him to see it, right then it felt like he had been doused in ice. “Laxus!” It was hard to focus, the Demon intensifying its efforts, his breath burning and catching in his throat, and his stubborn, desperate partner was opening his mouth, deliberately drawing the deadly, swirling mist to himself. “No…Stop!” He was pleading even as he worked, runes glowing dimly in the air in front of him as he stepped forward, managed a step and fell to one knee, Laxus’ attention snapping to him and for a moment there was just the two of them. An aching, terrible knowing flooding Freed’s chest as the Dragon-slayer smiled at him.

“Get everyone back home…that’s your job.”

_That is my job._

A calm settled over Freed then, and somehow, he found his way back to his feet. Wavering and unsteady on legs that he doubts will support him for long, and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the darkness across his vision was just the mist filling the area around them. He doesn’t have long, but then he doesn’t need much time, the runes he needs at his fingertips, his purpose a shield and a sword against the encroaching darkness, even as he hears Laxus choking out his name. He wished that he’d had his sword with him, but there was no time to worry about that now, as his fingers moved, dancing in the air with frantic energy.

_Get them home. Stop this._ _Protect them._

The Demon was fighting him, trying to distract him, a constant, haunting howl in the back of his mind that was getting louder and louder. It might as well be a whisper against his own mantra because he knows his job, knows what has to be done.

Knows what it will cost him.

_You’ll be free soon enough,_ Freed told it when the Demon howled against his defiance, feeling it subside momentarily in its surprise and he seized those precious seconds, throwing everything he had into the runes he’d just written. The magic that has always felt as natural as breathing tearing itself from him and this isn’t the slow ebb and loss of magic that he had been feeling. Or even the burn of the particles against his throat and lungs, instead it is a wildfire that roars through his veins.

Burning.

Consuming.

Freed catches a fleeting glimpse of the barrier he’s erected. It’s already flickering, it’s foundations as wracked by weakness as he feels, as it spreads out, a glimmer of purple that slices through mist and air, taking everything from him as it grows. He sees it settle around them, containing the mist before it can go beyond the confines of the crater their fight has left behind, sees another wall arch off, surrounding the forms of his friends and Yajima on the floor, and then he’s falling to his knees. He thinks that he might be screaming because he’s tied to the barrier, anchoring its existence, and fuelling it as it is immediately attacked by the barrier particles. But there’s a roaring in his ears that might be the Demon or might be his heart, battling to keep up with the strain of his magic. He’s burning and cold all at once, and there’s darkness, inside and out that’s threatening to pull him under and drag him away to somewhere he won’t come back from, and it’s more tempting than he wants to admit to think about yielding, to let himself flow away with the tide. He doesn’t, because the mist is still swirling around the area, still a threat to his friends. To Laxus who is calling his name in a tone that he has never heard from the Dragon-slayer before, that cuts through the roaring noise.

“Freed!”

“Laxus…” He tastes blood again as he breathes the Dragon-slayer’s name, struggling to open eyes that he didn’t remember closing, and he catches a brief glimpse of blue eyes before he’s doubling over with a cry. Coughing and choking, because the mist is all around him now, centred on him, attacking the only magic left available to it, and he can’t breathe. _Laxus…_ He can hear the Dragon-slayer shouting and feels a flare of agony as lightning strikes the barrier now firmly in place between them. Arching back as he feels the attack radiate through every inch of his body, again and again, as Laxus fights to get free, and Freed needs to tell him to stop. To beg him to stop.

But he can’t speak, can’t breathe, can’t think and there’s a splintering somewhere deep inside him.

The sensation disappears, as though Laxus has realised what was happening. However, there’s no time for relief because that splintering has broken something deep inside him, and Freed feels more than hears the triumphant roar in his chest as his eyes flutter shut in defeat. The wildfire of his magic being pulled from him, flares brighter for a moment, hungry and devouring, and then it’s gone, extinguished as though someone had blanketed it with cold earth, leaving an empty, aching hollow where his magic should be. He has no time to mourn its loss because something else is slipping into that space, filling it to the brim with icy darkness that steals his breath in a completely different way as something stirs, wakes and consumes him.

Something less than human.

Freed is aware of his eyes opening, even though he didn’t ask them to, and his vision is strange. Sharper, clearer, to the point where he feels as though he can see ever mote of dust, each particle in the mist that still swirls in the place. It feels different too, no longer dark and menacing, but softer and soothing. He breathes deeply, and now it doesn’t burn, but soothes, chasing away the last traces of something unwelcome, unwanted, and it takes him a moment to realise the Demon is relishing the loss of his magic. The banishment of the cage that has kept it bound for so long, that it is enjoying the pang of loss he feels at the reminder of the hollow that is still there, albeit mostly filled with the Demon’s presence.

“FREED!” His head snaps up at the panicked shout. The Demon snarling and Freed crying out a wordless, soundless warning in his own mind, as he looks at Laxus, the Dragon-slayer slamming his fists against the barrier separating them, lightning sparking and then fading. His magic fading – drained by the particles that Freed hadn’t been able to completely shield him from, and now tied into the barriers, the runes having switched anchors the moment Freed’s magic had faded to nothing.

_Please…_

He can pinpoint the exact moment Laxus realises that it’s not him he’s facing because there’s a flicker in his eyes, not quite the fear his partner had shown in the face of the other Demon but close. Softened, by the worry that creases the corner of his eyes. “Freed…” Soft, pleading, a tone that Freed had heard far too many times over the years when Laxus had needed to talk him back from the dark precipice of losing control. It’s not always enough, and today even as his heart twists at the voice, he knows that it’s not enough, even before the growl rumbles in his chest, and he feels the air change. The Demon recognises the tone too, and the intention behind it, and Freed waits, not breathing and hoping as it stares at Laxus, and the Dragon-slayer stares back, unfazed by the growl or the anger that Freed can feel twisting his expression into something dark and ugly. _Please._ Everything hinges on this, because the barriers are flickering, because as strong as Laxus is he’s also teetering on the brink, and if they fail… “Freed, you can fight this.” He wants to sob at the sheer certainty in those words, the faith that he doesn’t deserve, but that’s beyond him, and he’s a passenger in his own body as the Demon snarls a curse at the implied threat to its freedom, and then he’s lunging forward.

Freed’s magic is gone, but the Demon has it’s own power and purplish-black light blazes as it collides with the barrier, intent of breaking through. Utterly focused on destroying the Dragon-slayer who has stood his ground, defiant and pleading all at once as he braces himself for the attack. The barrier flares in answer to the attack, flickers and just as it seems as though it will collapse another line of runes flares to life, and Freed sees Laxus’ eyes widen in horror, realising what’s happening. The failsafe that Freed had built in when he’d realised the price of doing his job, of making sure they get home. “FRE…!” Laxus’ voice cuts off mid shout, as he and the others vanish from view, leaving the Demon whirling in the middle of the mist and the barriers, howling its fury as it realises that they’re gone, and turning its ire inwards on Freed.

It’s like being caught in a maelstrom, and Freed doesn’t even try to endure, weakened by his earlier efforts and comforted by the knowledge that the others are safe, he closes his eyes and smiles in the face of the Demon’s fury as he lets it wash him away.


	2. Chapter 2

There’s something soft under him when Laxus stirs, and for a fleeting, blissful moment he thinks that he’s at home, fingers stretching out in search of Freed, surprised that the Rune Mage isn’t curled around him which is his preferred way to sleep. The movement hurts, not the sharp throb of an injury, but a deeper, lingering ache and his breath catches, as with the pain comes memory.

The Demon…

The Fight…

The Mist…

Freed…

His eyes snap open at the memory of Freed lunging at him, teeth bared, and face twisted into an expression that should never be on his partner’s face. There’s a startled noise above him, and it takes him a second to recognise Evergreen’s voice, and another to blink enough to clear the blurriness clouding his eyes to bring her face into view. By the time he has, Bickslow is there too, relieved and worried and something worse all at once. Laxus feels a surge of relief at the sight of them, notices that they look exhausted and somewhat unsteady on their feet. However, it’s a far cry from the picture of them on the floor, still and unmoving, as terror had gripped him that it was already too late, but it’s another name that’s on his lips when he manages to coax his voice into working.

“…Freed?” They must’ve expected the question, it’s the first question both he and Freed ask whenever injured, always needing to know where and how the other is, but today they flinch and share a look that tells him everything he needs to know.

Freed isn’t here.

Gritting his teeth, and ignoring their attempts to stop him, Laxus pushes himself upright on what he realises is indeed a bed, just not his own. His arms tremble with the effort, barely managing to hold him upright, and as much as he hates to admit it, he needs the hands that immediately wrap around his shoulders and help him sit up as they realise he’s not going to stop. He has to let them settle him back against the pillows that Evergreen hastily piles up behind him because otherwise, he has a feeling, he will be taking a rather undignified tumble off the side of the bed. Now, he takes a brief moment to examine his surroundings. They’re in the infirmary, and he frowns, realising that he has no memory of returning to the guild, let alone arriving in the infirmary before his attention is drawn to the bed opposite where Yajima is laid. The older man looks terrifyingly fragile and far too small in the bed, and abruptly he’s reminded of how Makarov had looked on Tenroujima when he had been pushed to the brink. As much as he wants to ask about Freed, to demand answers about where his partner is, he has to ask. “Is he…?”

Evergreen follows his line of sight, and he sees her swallow before she turns back and meets his gaze. “He’s not doing well. Porlyusica was able to find a cure for the barrier particles we absorbed, thanks to you.”

“Me?”

“There was blood on your coat from whatever the hell he was,” Bickslow takes over, and Laxus doesn’t think he’s ever heard the other man sound so grim or so shaken, because there is fear in those words. But not just fear of their attacker, but something deeper. _Demon, he was a demon just like…_ Laxus can’t bring himself to finish that thought, knows that the others are thinking it too and nods, a silent demand for them to continue. “She used that to create a cure for us, but it takes time to work. You were out longer because you had a greater concentration of the particles in your body.” There’s an unspoken question in those words, but Laxus doesn’t answer, remembering how determined he had been to suck up every part of that deadly mist, the burn of it in his throat and lungs, the weakness that had been threatening to consume him. He doesn’t want to talk about it, about the slowly building weight of guilt at his failure that is settling in the pit of his stomach, because they might be here and alive, and with their magic he adds, realising that while it's drained, he can still feel it, he hadn’t been the one to save them in the end.

“Yajima?” He asks, through numb lips, even as it’s Freed’s name that fills his mind and heart.

“He had about the same concentration as us, but his age and health and working against him. Porlyusica is hopeful that he will recover, but she won’t make any promises until he wakes up…”

“How long?” Laxus asks because he hadn’t missed that Bickslow had said that it took time, and it’s clear that the other two have been awake a while to have caught up on what had happened or was happening, and his heart sinks as they exchange another look. And there’s a fierce but silent battle of wills, before Bickslow’s shoulders slump in defeat.

“It’s been a couple of days. Evergreen woke the first night, and I followed the next morning although Porlyusica only let us up and about this morning, and that’s with strict instructions not to overdo it,” Bickslow admits, cautious and with good reason, because Laxus is immediately trying to rise. The air around him is crackling with magic, and while muted, it’s enough to make them both back away in alarm. “Laxus.”

Laxus doesn’t make it far, his body betraying him, and he very nearly ends up on the floor, but Evergreen lunges to catch him, hissing as the static catches her and the noise makes him rein himself in. But he’s trembling, not sure if it’s anger or worry that he’s feeling more strongly. “Days?” He whispers, before looking at them again. “Where is he? How did we get here?” He hates that he can’t remember, his memories of those last few minutes hazy, apart from the haunting image of Freed lunging at him, the Demon alive and triumphant in his eyes.

“We don’t know,” Bickslow replies, and it’s only the fact that he sounds as strained and demoralised by his own words that stops Laxus from snapping at him. “Apparently, the four of us just appeared in the middle of the guild, without Freed.” That sparks a memory, a flash of purplish-black against the purple runes that Freed had erected. The tug of what he now realises was his magic supporting the barrier, and then a flare of other runes that had been hidden in the barrier—a failsafe.

“He triggered it…”

“Laxus?”

“I thought that I could stop it, that if I sucked up all the mist you four would be safe, but Freed…” Laxus closed his eyes, remembering how Freed had shouted at him, begging him to start, before something had shifted in his expression. He’d realised before Laxus had even realised let alone admitted to himself that it wasn’t going to work, and he had stepped up to protect them. To protect Laxus. _But at what cost?_ Laxus demanded the thought made a thousand times worse because he knew Freed. Knew that even in those few desperate moments he’d had to realise what was happening, make a plan and execute it, Freed had weighed the risk, and realised what it would cost him, and still chosen to do it. “Freed stopped it…erected barriers around us. Around the mist…” He trailed off at that, sudden panic flooding him. “The town?”

“The town is fine,” Evergreen was quick to reassure him, huffing a noise that he guessed was supposed to be a laugh but fell miles short of holding any humour. “Freed was very thorough, Makarov said that the mist was still there, but trapped in the space where the restaurant was. The Rune Knights have sealed off the area and reinforced the barriers just before they could fail, and they are working on a way to dissipate it safely, although apparently they're having trouble just maintaining the barriers.”

Freed had held it back. Alone, injured and with his magic draining away, and his demonic side fighting for control, and not for the first time Laxus was in awe of his partner, even though he wanted nothing more than to have Freed in front of him so that he could shake him for being so reckless. For sacrificing himself, because the Dragon-slayer knew that was precisely what he had done. He’d drained his magic to maintain those barriers, because as he’d explained once – in far too much detail for the Dragon-slayer’s liking, that such defensive barriers needed an anchor. And in doing so had let his own barriers - the carefully maintained magical cage that he kept around his demonic side – collapse and fail, unleashing the Demon and allowing it to seize control of Freed in a way that hadn’t happened in a long time. Then anticipating that the Demon would attack him, or that Laxus would provoke it by trying to bring Freed back, the Rune mage had built a failsafe into the runes, a protection against himself.

“There were teleportation runes…” Freed had made sure they all had at least a rudimentary understanding of his runes, so that in the heat of battle he wasn’t having to explain what he was doing, and now Laxus could see them clearly.

“But…” _Why isn’t he here too?_

“Freed was the trigger,” Laxus said softly, hands bunched in the covers because he had never needed or wanted to be protected from Freed no matter how dangerous he could be when the Demon slipped its leash. “The moment he attacked me, the runes activated and brought us home…” _Because I told him too._ That had been the trigger he realised belatedly, remembering how Freed’s expression had changed after Laxus had told him to get them home, that it was his job. _What have I done?”_

“He attacked… his Demon?” Bickslow interrupted his own question with another before cursing softly. “I should have known.”

“What do you mean?” Evergreen demanded before Laxus could.

“When you were fighting the other Demon, and we were getting up, Freed was off…” Bickslow replied. “Clenching his hands, and looking as though he was fighting, but he didn’t say anything, and when I looked again he seemed back to normal, and he sounded like himself when we were talking about bring that guy back here.”

_He’s not human._ Laxus remembered saying that, the fear that it had invoked, but he had never considered what having another Demon in proximity might do to Freed. Had that woken the Demon earlier? Had Freed’s loss of control been inevitable? “You’ve heard nothing?” He heard himself ask, desperate, pleading, not because Freed couldn’t take care of himself whatever form he was in, but because he knew that his partner would never forgive himself if the Demon caused havoc while it ran wild.

“Nothing,” Bickslow said with a scowl. “The guild is currently trying to locate him, while also finding and protecting any past Council members that are still alive. They’ve been warned that Freed… that he…” He can’t put it into words, and Laxus is relieved because he doesn’t want to hear it either. There’s a sinking feeling at the same time because while those who needed to know like Makarov had been aware of Freed’s occasional struggles with his Demon, it had been otherwise private and he knew that Freed wouldn’t be happy with the whole guild knowing. Even though he would undoubtedly agree with them being told, as it would protect them from him.

_And who will protect him?_

“What are you doing?” Evergreen demanded as he pushed back the covers, and swung his legs over the side, gritting his teeth as even that had him reeling dizzily.

“We have to find Freed.” He was grateful that the rest of the guild was looking, he really was, and not just because he knew that it meant a lot to Freed to have managed to find a place in the guild after everything that had happened with the Battle of Fairy Tail. But he wanted to be the one to find him, he needed to be the one to find him, and he and the Raijinshuu had a better chance than anyone at bringing Freed back to himself before he could do too much damage to either himself or innocent people. “He…” Laxus had made it to his feet, and immediately staggered and listed to the side, Evergreen and Bickslow immediately flanking him, and belatedly he realised he wasn’t the only one trembling from the exertion. But neither of them suggested that he get back into bed, or that they needed to wait. Instead, they steadied him and lingered, supporting him on both sides.

“We need to talk to the Master first.” Was all that Bickslow said, and while Laxus wanted to argue, knowing that his Grandfather would be reluctant to let them go in this state if he didn’t outright forbid them. But he didn’t argue, because they were leading him towards the door, making no comment on how much he had to lean on them, or the breathlessness that gripped him halfway, and he was infinitely grateful to them for that fact.

_Freed, we’re coming for you._

****

Freed had surfaced briefly.

He had no way of knowing how much time had passed since Laxus and the others had escaped, just that it had been long enough for him to not recognise their surroundings. He hurt. That was the only way to describe it, although if he pressed he wouldn’t have been able to say what hurt or whether it was his body that ached, or him – his soul – whatever you wanted to call it that was wounded, most likely it was both and there was nothing he could do about either of them. He was a prisoner in his own body and mind, and when he pushed albeit weakly, he realised that was more literal than he meant as he encountered resistance. He couldn’t see anything, but he recognised the sensation, the power behind them. A cruel mirror of the magical walls he had used to keep the Demon contained, only much stronger, and writhed in darkness that left him feeling cold and numb when he came into contact with it.

Still, he pressed against them, searching and testing for weakness, even as he wanted nothing more than to curl up in oblivion again. It was like a fortress rising dark and unseen around him, and as he explored it, he became aware that exits weren’t the only thing that was missing.

His magic was gone.

Not drained too unusable levels which he had experienced more than once, and been lectured for on all occasions, as usually, he’d pushed himself too far to protect the others. No this was like a candle that had been burnt down until all that remained was molten wax and a ruined wick, and it terrified him. More than the walls and the darkness, and the smug triumph that he could now feel in the air as the Demon became aware of his stirring. Because his magic was his lifeline, his shield and his weapon against the monster within his body, and without it…

_You are nothing more than a human,_ the Demon purred in their head and Freed wanted to vomit, because there was nothing he could say in response. No defiant words. No defence. He had no magic, he didn’t know where Laxus and the others were, or if they were even safe, because despite his best efforts they had been exposed to the barrier particles for far too long, and…

The darkness when it came, wasn’t the peaceful oblivion he had long for. It was cold and menacing, a suffocating blanket that was draped over him, forcing him under and trapping him with his own despairing thoughts.

_Help me._

****

Makarov hadn’t wanted them to join the search, and Porlyusica had been furious at them all for even being up and out of bed. Still, Laxus had let the anger and worry flow off him, like waves parting for the bow of a ship, immovable in his determination. His Grandfather at least relented when he had explained what had happened, hearing the fear that Laxus just couldn’t keep out of his voice despite his best efforts, because this was Freed, and even though he knew better than anyone to doubt his partner’s strength of will, of magic and general stubbornness. He also knew that the Demon was a wound that had never healed, a fear and a weakness, that Freed hid from the rest of the world but had dared to show with them, for moments like this so that they would be able to stop him and call him back.

First, they had to find them.

Tartaros was on the move around them, even while he had been talking with Makarov news had come in from several of the groups out searching for the Council Members as well as Freed. As much as Laxus wanted to snarl and argue that Freed was more important than some old fogeys that more often than not had spoken out against their guild, he held his tongue. This was important, Freed had known as much, focusing on that even when…. He shook his head, trying to pay attention to what was going on because the news was worrying, the guild rallying and there was a small voice that sounded suspiciously like a certain Rune Mage that whispered that he should help them first. He forced it down and looked to Evergreen and Bickslow. They looked as worn thin as he felt, and he knew that if Freed had been there, he would take one look at them and order them back into bed, and Laxus was tempted, but they had already informed him in words that he was reasonably sure they would never have used on Freed that they were coming with him.

_Face…_

_The Council…_

_More Tartaros…_

The news rolls in and Makarov seems to age in front of his eyes, but when he turns to Laxus, he is as focused and determined as ever albeit seemingly torn of what to say. “Laxus…” The Dragon-slayer meets and holds his gaze, not sure what he is going to do or say if Makarov pleads with him to stay, knowing that Fairy Tail is as embroiled in this mess as it is possible to be at this point, that too many of them are separated in danger. _But this is Freed._ It’s selfish, he knows that, but he also can’t beyond that point. When he closes his eyes, all he can see is Freed’s fear for him morphing into determination to protect them all or that final, flare of magic that had torn them away from him. Freed’s sacrifice the only reason why they’re still here, and his hands curl into fists at his side, and he’s unaware of the magic bleeding into the air around him, a brewing storm. “Find him,” Makarov says, and something in Laxus’ chest eases at the words that are both permission and a plea, and he barely pays attention to Makarov hushing Porlyusica when she snaps a protest. “They’re the only ones that can bring Freed back.”

Laxus meets his gaze for a moment, swallowing hard as he realises, he can see an echo of the thought that has been growing in the back of his mind throughout the discussion and reports. _They’re the only one who can stop Freed, especially if…_ He hears the words that aren’t spoken, knows that he will have to say as much to Evergreen and Bickslow, but not here where the walls have ears, and instead, he nods to signal his understanding.

It takes everything Laxus has to rise to his feet and not waver as he straightens. He’s exhausted, and not in the way that will be resolved by a nap and food, and he knows that if he stopped and lay down, then he would be asleep in seconds and probably stay that way for hours if not days. Part of him longs to do that because it’s the kind of weariness that wraps itself around more than his physical body. And privately he knows that Porlyusica is right to worry, especially as he has a feeling that this isn’t going to be like any other fight or attempt to bring Freed back to them. He doesn’t look at Evergreen or Bickslow as he moves to stand with him, knowing that they must feel the same, and he can smell their worry, their fear, and it is made more real by the silence of Bickslow’s dolls as they float around them.

“Let us know if anything happens with Yajima,” he says, glancing at Porlyusica who is glaring at them, clearly itching to override Makarov and order them back to the infirmary. He owes her a lot, they all do, but he won’t let her keep them from Freed. She softens a little at his words, just a slight easing around her eyes and nods in agreement. He knows the others are worried about the old man, and he has a feeling that Freed as soon as he is able will ask about Yajima, and Laxus wants to be able to answer him. “And with Them,” he adds, shifting his attention to Makarov, unable to keep the menace of out of his voice, at the thought of their enemy.

_Tartaros. Demon gates._

He will not forget their name, and he won’t hesitate this time. He knows what they are now, has a better idea of what they are capable, his throat burning with the memory of the mist choking him, killing him… and even Natsu had struggled to force a victory from what Lucy had said. It doesn’t bode well any of it, but Laxus’ concern is narrower, because they’re dealing with Demons and Freed is out there somewhere, caught in the grasp of something just like them. _Let’s meet in Hell dead ones,_ he shivers at the memory of the words, nails biting into the palms of his hands.

_We will send you there._

**

The guild is chaotic when they leave, and he can feel worried eyes tracking them, whispers spreading around them, a touch of fear colouring the air as they realise they’re leaving. He can’t bring himself to look at them, because Freed’s voice is in the back of his mind urging him to stay and fight, and he can’t risk the chance that he might give in to that urge no matter how much his partner might want him to, because he feels like theirs an hourglass hovering over them. Sand tumbling through with each minute that passes, and that with each grain of sand Freed is moving a step further away from them.

Away from him.

“Laxus, where are we going? If no one has seen him…” It’s Bickslow that speaks up as they step outside the guild, and Laxus has the impression he’d lost the competition to see who was going to broach the subject.

“Back to where this started at the restaurant,” Laxus replies without looking back. “If Freed managed to barricade it, and set up a failsafe, then maybe he left some indication of where the Demon would go.” The Demon was unpredictable at the best of times, and he knew that it might be a wild hope to expect even more from Freed than he had already done. But, this was Freed. He had always been able to do the unexpected, and he knew more about his demonic side than the rest of them combined, forcing himself to learn its limits, it’s strengths, to be able to keep it bound more securely.

“And if he hasn’t?” Evergreen braves the question that he had been trying to avoid. Not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because he is scared of the one that he does have. The one that had haunted Makarov’s gaze and the unspoken words that had hung between them.

“If he hasn’t, then we need to find Tartaros,” Bickslow is the one to respond, voice soft, and Laxus faltered and glanced back at him, shivering as the dolls finally broke their silence to echo the name. The Skeith mage is scowling, not at them, but at the ground as though he had given voice to something he hadn’t want to say, and when he looks up at Laxus, his mouth is set in a grim line. “The Demon responded to being close to another one, so that’s where he would go.”

“You’re saying he would join them…?” Evergreen whispered.

“Yes,” Laxus said, just as quietly, turning his gaze to the sky. _They’re the only one who can stop Freed, especially if he has joined Tartaros,_ Makarov had spared him needing to hear the words, but not the thought. Now, standing there outside the guild that feels empty without Freed, and with Bickslow and Evergreen making matching sounds of dismay beside him, Laxus can’t hide from it, as the cold weight of certainty settled over him.

_Freed…._

****

Freed is flying, and for a wild, hopeful minute he thinks it’s just a dream and dares to lose himself in the sensation. He had always loved the freedom of being able to leave the ground behind and take to the air, to see the world from a different angle, it was why he had worked so hard to master that spell from a young age.

It’s too real.

There’s wind in his hair, pushing against him, and a chill that cuts through his body as he rises. Not a dream, then, and now he focuses, looking through eyes that no longer belong to him. They’re high, higher than he has ever needed to go, and that explains the chill, and the thinning of the air around him, although it’s not enough to harm him yet. There’s a flash of colour in the corner of his eye, and it takes him a moment to realise that he’s seeing his wings, larger than he creates them, and the purplish light that surrounds them is wrong. Darker, with flickers of black stretching across them like veins. Not his wings, but the Demon’s… he doesn’t have the magic to make them anymore. He has the terrifying realisation that he can’t fight back right now, that he’s wholly dependent on the Demon, because if it lost control now he would fall and he doesn’t need to be able to see the ground to know that isn’t a fall that he’s going to survive.

There’s laughter in his mind, the Demon aware that he’s awake again and what he’s thinking, taking malicious glee in his fear, and the fact that he is as trapped as ever. _Where are we going?_ Freed asks, more to silence the laughter than anything because there’s nothing he can do with the knowledge if the Demon even deigns to answer because he has no means of leaving a marker for the others to follow. If they’re even able to, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of his mind.

_Home._

Panic floods Freed at that simple word because home is Fairy Tail. Is the guild filled with his friends and guildmates, many of whom have never seen this side of him. People that he would never want to see him like this, let alone fight him, and he knows that it was what would happen because the desire to destroy, to corrupt is so strong that he can practically taste it. _No,_ he thinks and even though he knows the dangers, knows that it’s futile without his magic, he struggles, trying to break free. He will take the fall, the risk of severe injury or worse over the thought of hurting his guildmates again, he still bears the guilt of his past actions, and he refuses to add to it. It’s like battering against a stone wall with a twig, the barricade around him not even quivering at his efforts, and then darkness lashes out, not to surround him this time, but to wound. It lashes at him, like Laxus’ lightning but a thousand times worse, and he knew that if he had physical form right, then it would be raising welts across his skin. Instead, it seems to sink deeper, threatening to render him asunder from the inside out, and crying out to the sound of the Demon’s laughter he retreated, abandoning his struggles, and all but baring his neck in surrender.

The Demon is not forgiving, relishing its freedom and the fact that the tables have turned, and Freed wonders if this is how he going to die because the assault seems to intensify and he can feel himself gripping. Losing all sense of himself and where he is, and everything becomes darkness and pain. Then just as he is about to topple over the precipice, the attack stops, and he can breathe, the first deep, shuddering breath more of a sob than anything else, and he knows the fall is inevitable. Can feel the yawning maw of the darkness opening beneath him, but just before he falls, he feels the Demon gather him close, almost imagines that he can feel breath on his face, and the scrape of claws against skin that is already torn and raw.

_I’m taking you to Hell…_

Then he fells a shove as the Demon laughs, and he’s falling into endless black, and the last thing he sees before he succumbs to the darkness is the looming outline in the sky above him. And his final despairing thought, set to the melody of the mocking laugh that chases him into the dark is that the others are never going to be able to find him.


	3. Chapter 3

The area around Yajima’s restaurant is completely cordoned off from streets away by the time Laxus and the others reach it, every entryway guarded to make sure no one can sleep through, while the air is dark with the swirling mist beyond the guards.

“What happened?” Laxus demands, marching straight up to two of the Rune Knights and towering over them, eyes locked on the mist that is gathering like dark clouds further down the street. It sends a shiver down his back to see it so close, and Evergreen presses close while Bickslow is tense and watchful. There’s a moment when it seems as though they’re not going to answer him and order him away, one making an aborted shooing motion, before the second spies their guild marks and hastily nudges the other, indicating it with a hissed ‘ _it’s them’._ Laxus doesn’t know if he means ‘them’ as in those caught in the destruction or Fairy Tail in general, and he doesn’t care because the first one straightens.

“It broke through the barricades, and it’s been spreading ever since,” he reports. “We’ve evacuated everyone that we can, but…” He falters glancing off to the side, and Laxus can’t help but follow his gaze, swallowing thickly as he spies the black-covered bodies lined up to one side. _Freed…_

“There was a man, he was about this high,” Evergreen pushes forward, indicating Freed’s height with trembling hands. “Has green hair, and was wearing an orange 8-ball restaurant uniform, have you…” Laxus isn’t the only one to hold his breath, as the two men confer and then the first is shaking his head.

“We’ve not seen anyone like that, but this isn’t the only station.” Apologetic, but with a note of warning, as though they don’t want to get their hopes up, and then the two Rune Knights share another look before the second leans forward, looking torn between hope and shame. “They said that you had a mage that managed to hold this back, are they…?”

“That’s who we’re looking for,” Laxus tells him, and feels a brief surge of satisfaction amongst the dismay at his own words as their expressions fall. Pleased by the recognition of Freed’s skill, that’s so rarely acknowledged beyond their own group, and wishing that they weren’t only seeing it now when they had no idea where Freed was, or what he had sacrificed. “Can you tell us where the other station is?” He asks, and with directions in hand, they leave just as orders come through to extend the cordon.

“We can’t tell Freed about this,” Bickslow murmurs, as they pass more people carrying a stretcher between them, and Laxus nods. He’s not sure that Freed was thinking beyond them at the time, he knows that he hadn’t been in that moment when he had decided to suck up as much as the mist as he could, and it was more than anyone, even Freed could have been asked to do, but he also knew his partner. Knew that Freed would blame himself for each and every life lost of affected by the spreading calamity and that it would eat away at him in the quiet moments and late at night, just as the Battle of Fairy Tail did.

“He’ll ask about it.” It’s Evergreen who bursts that thought, voice soft but sure and Laxus almost wants to hate her for it at that moment, but he can’t, because in her own way she’s just as right as Bickslow is. Because that is who Freed is, even if he hadn’t thought about it at the moment, he would think about it in the future, and he will ask, and Laxus wants to believe that he will lie. That he will spare him the details, but he knows even as he thinks that he won’t, because for all the ups and downs in their relationship, the strain his past behaviour had put on them, he had never lied to Freed and vice versa and he can’t stop now.

“We’ll deal with that when we have to,” he hears himself say, the words feeling far away because somehow that feels like an admission that they might not get a chance and he can’t afford to think like that. Not now, when Freed is out there, waiting for them to find him and call him back to them. “Let’s find him first, and then we can worry about…everything else.”

He hates how much it sounds like _if we find him…_

****

Freed isn’t flying anymore, and he frowns wondering why he had thought he was flying, because he’s drifting, something cold and unpleasant pressed against his body. It’s liquid, but it feels wrong, feels too much like the darkness filling the hollow in his chest, and he trashes, trying to pull free. The Demon is still there, he can feel it, can feel the barriers keeping him in, but it’s quiet for now, holding its peace. Almost hibernating, and it’s Freed who opens his eyes, vision filled with greyish-green liquid that distorts the world around him, or maybe it’s the pain that hits him the moment he tries to breathe and chokes on the fluid. _What is this?_ Panic claws at him, and he can’t breathe as it sits low and heavy on his chest, and he’s flailing, his hands colliding with something invisible and solid.

A wall? No glass?

It’s glass, he realises a moment before there’s a movement beyond, a dark shape moving closer, and an unfamiliar face peering in at him and grinning. He stares at the bunny ears for a moment, before blinking at her, a plea on his lips, but the words won’t come, his voice failing him, and it seems to him that her grin is growing as she studies him for a long moment. “That won’t do…” She mutters, voice distorted, and he has to strain to hear the rest of her words. “…human…demon gate…” He doesn’t understand, but there’s something about her expression, about the hunger in the dark eyes locked on him that makes him uneasy, and when she presses a hand to the glass he flinches back, trying to escape. As he does so, he catches a glimpse of a row of tanks, similar to what he realises he must be imprisoned in, a jolt of fear locking him in place when he spies the Demon that had attacked them.

They’re not alone, and it takes his frenzied mind a moment to recognise Minerva, in the tank two spaces along, her eyes closed, but her expression anything but peaceful. _Why is she here? Why is he here?_ He remembers the flying now, and the falling into darkness and the looming shape of what had appeared to be an island, but nothing afterwards. Had the Demon got them captured? Surrendered them? What was being done to him, to them…? He’s not sure if he wants the answer to that question, eyes flickering back to the girl in front of him, who has an almost maniacal glint to her eyes now as she follows his gaze, offering him a toothy grin before leaning in close now. “They’re no fun to work on,” he hears her clearly this time, and he has a feeling that’s deliberate because there’s menace in her voice that is somehow worse for how light-heartedly it’s delivered, as though they were discussing the weather and not whatever the hell this is. “I have so many new toys,” her gaze wanders to Minerva, and then to his left and despite himself Freed follows her gaze, and his eyes widen as he spies Mira in the next tank, unmoving and oblivious.

“Mira!” He tries to call and instead bubbles rise around him, and all he can taste and feel is the liquid as it seeps into his open mouth. There’s something familiar about the taste, and he gags on it, flailing again, as though it will make a difference this time. As though if he can just reach Mira, someone familiar, who knows who and what he is, then this nightmare will be over. There’s a peal of laughter, drawing his attention back to his captor, not liking the malicious look that she levels at Mira before focusing on him once more, as she leans down to fiddle with something at the bottom of the tank.

“I’m going to destroy her, turn her into something ugly and broken.” Freed tries to glare at her, but it has no effect, and his skin crawls. _Mira. What happened? What is happening?_ He had sent the others back to the guild, if his runes had worked properly, but had he been wrong to do so? What had happened to the guild? His mind was racing, terror and uncertainty threatening to drown him, and he’s clearly missed something, because the girl is rapping on the glass, sharp and demanding, and the humour has drained from her expression, and at that moment she looks dangerous. “You…You, I’m going to turn into something else…something that they’ve never seen before.” She twists something, and the fluid around him shifts, turns ice cold for a moment, chilling him to the bone and freezing the breath in his lungs, and then it’s shifting.

Bubbles are rising up, and the greyish-green turns dark until he can’t see anything but darkness once more, and somehow this one is more terrifying than the previous one, and he can feel himself beyond pulled under just as something stirs under his skin. It’s similar to his Demon, and yet different, and it feels like someone has poured molten fire through his veins, and he’s twisting and turning, a scream building in his throat with nowhere to go, as he feels something creeping across his skin. Something tangible and flowing, it spreads like a web, locking him place, preventing his flailing, and then he feels it burrow into his body. A burst of sharp blades piercing his body in a dozen places or more, and now he does scream, and the fluid reaches in, and the sensation follows, tearing him apart from inside, and he screams, reaching for the Demon, ready to make a deal with the devil if it spares him from this.

Now it stirs, and he feels it grinning back at him in the hollow space in his chest, and defeat washes over him as he realises too late that the deal has already been made, he’d just missed the negotiations. _What have you done?_ He asks, despairing and sinking because there’s nothing to hold onto now. Mira doesn’t seem to know he’s there, and she’s as trapped as he is, and Minerva is an unknown even if she was conscious, and Freed doesn’t think he’s ever felt as along as he does in that moment, as the Demon laughs.

_Found a way to remain free, forever…_

****

Freed isn’t at the other station, and Laxus almost crumples with relief, realising that some part of him had half expected to see his partner stretched out with the poor souls caught in the crossfire of their failure. Evergreen and Bickslow are relieved but unsettled, looking to him for answers that he doesn’t have, and he keenly misses Freed at that moment, because he’s their bridge, their voice. The glue that binds them together, and he’s not there, and no one’s seen him. Worse there’s no way for them to get close to the restaurant now because they can’t risk losing their magic now.

“What do we do now?” Bickslow asks, finally. “Freed could be anywhere, could be doing anything…” There’s a sharp intake of breath as Evergreen looks to see his reaction. It’s an unspoken rule between them that they don’t talk about the occasions where Freed has lost control. Or at least not after the immediate aftermath because they know it bothers the Rune Mage, even though they’ve all made it plain that it doesn’t change how they see him. Laxus bristles, automatically opening his mouth to defend Freed, but he falters because this is the Raijinshuu, and there’s no judgement in those words, just worry. For Freed, for them, because losing Freed would… Laxus shook his head, refusing to let his thoughts go down that road just yet, and instead, he straightens.

“We think like a Demon,” he says, and it’s not Freed he sees in his mind's eye, but their attacker. Because Freed is and has always been more than the Demon, and no matter what happens – and his mind his far too eager to conjure up the worse case scenarios - Laxus won’t allow that to change. “And we find our way into Hell.”


	4. Chapter 4

_He drifts, drifts, drifts away…_

He’s moving. Freed can feel his body moving, but it’s distant, as though it’s someone else’s body and for a moment he dares to hope that it’s a dream, a nightmare that he just needs to wake up from. It takes him longer to remember the Demon’s triumphant words ‘ _I found a way to remain free, forever…’_ and longer still to realise that this is reality, that he can feel the rise and fall of his chest, a chill on his skin, as power crackles in the air around him.

A power that is in equal parts familiar and unfamiliar.

He’s drifting away again, struggling to focus, to put a finger on what is going on. His memory feels as though someone has gone through his thoughts and jumbled up the pieces, stealing certain elements, and leaving him with a confusing mess of images that make something, he just can’t make sense of. _Laxus, where is Laxus? Where are the others?_ He can remember being with them, remembers laughing and joking, a simple job then to make up for the spate of more challenging jobs they’d taken, and so that they could rest. Remembers flashes of orange and an older voice barking orders at them. That wasn’t here, he was sure of that, even though he wasn’t sure where this was, but that place… a restaurant, had been warm and welcoming, the air flooded with delicious smells and smoke… Bickslow had burned something… or had that been Laxus, lightning streaking down from the sky, but why? Why would he use that on that job? Something is missing, something that has fear coiling just beneath the surface, strong enough to piece the haziness of his memory, because while he can’t remember what it is, he remembers being afraid.

_But, what of…?_

He’s scared now, he realises, because even that fear is distant. As though a blanket of snow has fallen over him, muffling the world, chilling him to the bone, leaving him quivering and shaking in the dark. Where is he? What is going on?

Mist.

He remembers mist, or at least he thinks he does. Maybe he’s mistaking it for the darkness that lingers around him now, a barrier between him and the world, and whatever it is that he’s trying to remember. No. That mist had been different, it had burned and choked him, threatening him…them…he remembers Evergreen falling, remembers Bickslow collapsing, remembers… he doesn’t remember what happened to Laxus. But, the Dragon-slayer had been there, he’s sure of it, in the way that he’s sure of nothing else right now. Laxus had been there, but he’s not here now, because Freed can’t feel the pressure in the air beside him, the static that would warn him that Laxus was close. And he’s alone in the dark, and Laxus would never leave him alone, the other man knowing that is one of his greatest fears for all that he’s never spoken it aloud, never protested splitting up on a job…

… was that what this was?

Had he confused what job they were on? Had they split up and Freed run into trouble? That didn’t feel right, because as confused as he was, he had the impression that time had passed. Too much time. So, where were the others? Where was he?

He pushed against the darkness, panic wreathing the fear rising in his chest, and something took notice. He wasn’t sure how he knew. There was no shift in the air around him, the movement that felt so distant continued, his body being borne somewhere he couldn’t see, couldn’t prevent, but it was as though the world had paused to watch him. He felt raw and exposed under that gaze, and there was a menace to it that had him reaching for his magic, not sure if he was in any state to fight but refusing to just bow down in defeat. The others would be looking for him, Laxus would be looking for him, he was as sure of that as he had been about Laxus having been there in his memory, sure enough, to fight.

There’s no magic. Not even a spark, but there’s something else.

Something dark and vile.

Something evil.

It’s the Demon, the part of him that he tries to deny so often, that he keeps buried under magic and rules and tight self-control, but at the same time, it’s not. It’s too powerful, too dark, as though the humanity he forces on that part of himself has been stripped away until all that remains is a void. _Where are you?_ He thinks and hates how pleading it sounds, how desperate, and the feeling of being watched intensifying, until it feels as though there must be eyes all around him, and yet nothing shows in the darkness. _WHERE ARE YOU?_ He screams, but there’s no sound in the darkness around him, but something reaches for him, trails clawed hands across his face, roughly enough that he imagines that there must be bloody furrows left behind, and then there’s breath against his ear, colder than night.

_Here._

****

It feels almost as though they’re chasing a ghost, because Freed – or the Demon wearing his skin, seems to have vanished without a trace. Laxus won’t admit it aloud, but that worries him because the Demon has never made any bones about what it wanted to do to them if it ever got free, to him and Ever and Bickslow who had brought Freed back from the precipice time and time again. _I wonder what he would do without his anchors,_ the Demon had whispered to him, claws buried the deep the last time they’d fought, a final defiance as Laxus had ignored the pain and held Freed close as the Rune Mage fought his way back to the surface. The Dragon-slayer hadn’t had an answer for it at the time, and worse the Demon had known it, twisting Freed’s lips into a terrible smirk before subsiding. He didn’t know if Freed remembered that incident, prayed that he didn’t, because he knew that Freed worried about what he could do them already, and didn’t want to add to his burden. But, now, with the Demon on the loose and no idea if Freed was going to be able to come back from this – another thought he wasn’t going to voice – he couldn’t help but remember that threat.

He knew the answer because it was the same reason that Freed had sacrificed himself from the mist. If Freed lost them, then he would have no reason to fight, no reason to come back to himself. Which was why, he knew the Demon wanted to destroy them, because as much as they were Freed’s anchors, they were the Demon’s chains.

So, why would it flee?

Was it hoping that if it had more time alone to bury Freed deep inside, that it would be able to stop them pulling the Rune Mage back to the surface? That was a possibility, but a risky one, because Laxus knew Freed, had never met or loved anyone so stubborn in his life, and he knew that time alone wouldn’t be enough to make Freed stop fighting. If anything, it would strengthen his efforts, because Freed would want to come back to them, to him, and not just because they were friends or rather family, because Freed as stubborn and independent and strong as he was, hated being alone. Hated it even when only one of them was missing for a short time, which was one of the reasons Laxus’ banishment had been so hard on him. And why Laxus had been so instant on taking the punishment himself, refusing to tear Freed away from the others, from the guild that he needed even if he wouldn’t admit.

The Demon would know that. Freed had once admitted that while he could keep himself and the Demon separate, it wasn’t so easy to do with memories, thoughts and feelings. That just as he knew the anger, desperation and hunger for violence of his demonic counterpart, the Demon knew his vulnerabilities, the cracks in his composure. So, it wouldn’t be time, or at least not solely. Was it the barrier particles? Laxus doubted that they would have much impact on Demons like the one he had thought. Otherwise, it would be a foolish weapon to keep around, but Freed and the Demon were two sides of the coin, serving as each other’s strength and weakness for all that it was a strained, broken relationship. Could it be that Freed and his magic and humanity, had weakened the Demon, making it susceptible to the particles? Perhaps, he should have taken the time to ask if Porlyusica had known more, but he had a feeling that if he’d remained any longer, then she would have spoken up more vehemently and tried to stop him leaving.

The other possibility and the one that he least wanted to contemplate was that the Demon had a plan. Plans were dangerous. Especially when all he and the others had was a vague idea to head for where they’d last heard Natsu was, knowing that the other Dragon-slayer had a nose for trouble, and was the most likely of all of them to run headlong into Tartaros. Was it hoping that they would welcome it as a fellow Demon, even though Freed was nothing like the one that had attacked them? Or hoping, that Tartaros would have some way of helping it keep Freed contained…?

“Laxus?” A quiet voice interrupted his rapidly darkening thoughts, and he looked up to find Evergreen and Bickslow watching him warily, and it took him a moment to realise the air around them was filled with static, making their hair stand on end. “What are you thinking?” Evergreen asked as he forced himself to take a deep breath, slowly clenching and unclenching each finger in turn, once, twice, three times before the static in the air had reached more bearable levels. Keenly missing the way that Freed would step up alongside him whenever his control wavered like that, sometimes settling him with just a look or a quiet word, other times with fingers brushing his arm, or pressing against him, grounding him in the same way that he kept Freed anchored.

_Freed…_

It takes him a moment, and Bickslow carefully clearing his throat to realise that they’re still waiting for an answer, and part of him wants to snap and snarl at them. To tell them to stop looking to him for answers, or leadership, because as much as the Raijinshuu follow and support him, it’s always been Freed who is their Captain, and that isn’t a role he can fill. It’s not a role he wants to fill, because doing so would feel like taking a step closer to admitting that maybe just maybe they won’t get Freed back this time, and he knows, even as his heart sinks in his chest that, that is a dangerous path to take. But they’re here, and he can see the worry in their expressions – for him, as much as for Freed, and not because they follow him, but because they know that Freed would want them to watch over him in his stead. Just as Laxus knows that if…when they find Freed, they will be there, ready to do whatever it takes to bring Freed back, and it’s that which softens his mood, and if his tone is a little sharp and strained, they’re kind enough not to acknowledge it.

“I was trying to work out what the Demon might be doing, and why it hadn’t come straight for us.” They both know about the Demon’s threat, he had filled them in as Freed had slept under their watchful eyes the night after that fight, swearing them secrecy.

“It might think we’re dead,” Bickslow offered after a moment of contemplation. “I don’t get the feeling we were supposed to survive that attack.”

“Let’s meet in Hell dead ones…” Laxus repeated with a frown. That was an angle he hadn’t considered, and it’s not a pleasant one, because if the Demon believed they were dead, then what did Freed think? That his sacrifice had been too late? That it had been for nothing? As bad as the other options were, not that there were any good options in this situation, he prayed that Bickslow was wrong because that was the kind of thought that could break Freed long before they got to him.

“Freed told me once, that he would know if something had happened to you, to any of us,” Evergreen murmured, and they both turned to look at her. Bickslow tilting his head in confusion while Laxus was still, watching, waiting…hoping, for something that would quell the rising surge of fear that Bickslow might be right with his suggestion. “We talked about it once, during the time that you were…gone.” Laxus grimaced, none of them was comfortable talking about that time, and while they had moved forward and grown closer because of it, he couldn’t help but think that maybe they should tackle the subject. Later, when Freed was safe and with them once more so that Laxus could hold him close. “We hadn’t heard anything about you for a while, and I knew that he was worried, but when I asked him, he smiled and told me that while he was worried, he knew that you were okay. That he would know if something had happened to you, just as he would know if anything ever happened to Bickslow or me, even if we were far away.”

“He said that…?” Bickslow asked.

“I thought that maybe he was lying, trying to stop me from worrying about him, but it was written across his face. He believed every word he was saying,” Evergreen said by way of an answer, glancing at him, before focusing on Laxus. “I don’t think that will have changed, if anything, I would say that it would be stronger than ever since you, you know…” She waved her hands, a little awkwardly, well aware that neither he nor Freed were fans about discussing their relationship more than necessary. That development had been long overdue, and as natural as breathing as they fell into the new rhythm, and while it had caused some excitement in the guild, Evergreen and Bickslow had been kind enough to just go with the flow, albeit with the odd fond and or exasperated look.

Laxus wasn’t sure whether to draw comfort or not from her words. On the one hand, it warmed him to know that Freed had felt that certain about them, even when he had left him with little more than a promise to return to them…him…one day. On the other, it chilled him that he didn’t have that same certainty. Or did he? He closed his eyes for a moment. _Freed._ He wanted to believe that the Rune Mage was okay, that he was out there, and that even if the Demon was still in control, that he was fighting for it and waiting for them to come, that he believed they were alive and would come for him. On the other hand, he couldn’t entirely silence his doubts and fears, because before Freed and the Demon had always been right there in front of him, close enough for him to touch, and now he had no idea where his partner was.

But…

He did know Freed. Knew that he would be fighting, or that if he couldn’t fight that he would hold on as long as possible, and beyond, for them to come, because Freed’s faith in them, in Laxus, was as unwavering as his determination to protect them.

So, how could Laxus believe any less?

“Freed knows that we’ll be coming for him,” he said finally, opening his eyes once more, and the air around him was still once more, his magic back under control. “We just have to find him, and drag him back, kicking and screaming if needs be.” He knew that was closer to the truth than he wanted to admit, because the Demon always fought them, but this time, having had time to get its claws figuratively and possibly literally into Freed, it would be harder to contain.

“About that…?” Bickslow started hesitantly, and Laxus gestured impatiently for him to continue. “We’re going to need Freed’s magic to get the Demon back under control completely, but if he was as affected by the Barrier Particles as we were…”

Laxus honestly wasn’t sure which of them cursed first, him or Evergreen, not that it mattered as they turned the air blue for a moment. He had been so focused on the Demon being in control, and everything else that might entail, that he hadn’t stopped to consider the fact that Freed had inhaled far too much of that deadly mist, and that just because the Demon had taken over, it didn’t mean it would be able to affect.

“We could go back, see if Porlyusica has more of the cure?” Evergreen suggested.

“But…” Laxus started to protest. The guild was behind them, doubling back would cost them precious time, and they were already too far behind Freed as it was, and there was the possibility that if they went back, Porlyusica wouldn’t let them leave a second time. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see the sense in the suggestion, but time was against them, and they could always drag Freed – demonic or not – back to the guild and the cure once they had found him, even if that would be easier said than done.

“We’re going to have a fight on our hands anyway,” Bickslow cut in, even as Laxus opened his mouth to voice his thoughts. “It’s been getting harder to pull him back, you know that.” Laxus did know that it didn’t mean that he wanted to hear it put into words and he scowled at Bickslow, who frowned back unrepentantly, and abruptly Laxus was struck by how far they had become. Because there had been a time when Freed had been the only one who had dared to consistently speak up against him, the other two choosing to let him fill that role, and maybe it was just because Freed wasn’t there to do it that they were stepping up, but Laxus had a feeling that it was more than that, and so he nodded. “Having the cure on hand would at least give us a chance to throw Freed an extra lifeline, to help him fight back against it.”

“Plus, if we manage to bring the Demon back under control and it’s presence was shielding Freed from the Barrier Particles…” Evergreen added.

Laxus hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to turn back, not knowing that Freed was out there somewhere, and yet he couldn’t deny that their arguments made sense. In the end, it was the fact that he knew that they were as worried for Freed as he was and that they wouldn’t suggest a delay unless they thought that it was absolutely necessary that decided him. _Wait for me,_ he thought, looking out the way that they had been heading, hoping that Evergreen was right and that Freed believed they were all right and that they would come for him. “We get the cure, and then…”

Whatever else he had been planning to say was lost, as a massive explosion rent the air behind them, the ground beneath their feet shaking with the force of it and sending them stumbling. Bickslow caught Evergreen before she could fall, and Laxus spared them half a glance, just enough to ensure that they were otherwise unharmed before he whirled, seeking out the source of the noise, braced for an attack. What he wasn’t prepared for was the enormous, mushroom-shaped cloud of smoke rising above Magnolia’s skyline, or for the terrible, sinking knowing in his chest.

The Guild.

****

Freed was surrounded and yet he had never felt as alone as he did at that moment because it was as if he wasn’t even there, or if he was, then he was no more consequence than a broken doll. No, less than that, because he had seen how gentle Bickslow could be with his dolls when they were damaged or outright broken in battle, and his friend showed more care to those ruined forms that the people…no Demons around him was showing him.

Oh, they were looking at him, one of them, who appeared to be a leader of sorts prowling around him and studying him with a look that was part curiosity, and then equal measures of doubt and approval, the latter make his stomach churn. He didn’t want her to look at him like that, as though he belonged here, as though he was one of them. _I am not like you,_ he thought, in the same way, that he had always tried to remind himself that he was human, but the thought trembled and wavered, fragile enough that it felt as though it could slip away from him at any moment. Laughter, greeted his thoughts, and at first, he thought it was that same voice that had whispered ‘ _Here’_ not long before – the voice that was the Demon, but more, amplified by something that he had missed, or couldn’t understand, a mocking sound meant just for his ears. Then he realised that his lips were pulled wide in mirth that wasn’t his, that the laughter wasn’t just in his head, although he could barely recognise his own voice in that sound, or in the words that followed.

“Your assistant…” The Demon said with his mouth, drawling that last word with a sharp edge of mocking, and Freed had a fleeting memory of liquid threatening to drown him or had that been the darkness… and rabbit ears, and a menacing grin that had promised and threatened far too much. _What did they do to me?_ He demanded, but there was no answer, as though he was as insignificant as a leaf adrift in a gale, the Demon continuing as though he hadn’t spoken. “Was most helpful, just as you promised…” Freed catches a glimpse of himself then, or at least his arms, and he’s almost glad that he’s not in control of his own body at that moment because he wants to be sick as he stares at the dark scales that cover at least his lower arms and hands, ending in sharpened claws at his fingertips. Worse is the writing. Not runes, a script he doesn’t recognise in that instance and in is no state to try and decipher, that flow across the scales. There’s a hint of the purplish gleam of his magic in them, although he can feel no spark of it, but they’re darker, almost melting into the black of the scales, and he has an impression of chains wrapping around his body.

No, not his body. Around him, his soul…his humanity…his memories.

Around everything that makes him Freed and not the Demon.

Sealing him in. A prisoner locked away without a key.

_Forever,_ the Demon had told him, he remembers now, and trembles beneath the weight and meaning of that word, despair stronger than any he had ever felt before settling over him, as the woman smiles. It isn’t a friendly smile, and yet there’s a kinship there, one that stirs a memory, but before he can attempt to try and untangle the puzzle pieces she closes the gap between them and reaches out. He braces himself for pain because he’s not one of them, he’s not…and then he feels clawed hands, so similar and yet so different from what his have become settle on his cheeks, and she’s looking into his eyes, and Freed has a feeling that this time it’s him that she’s looking at and he quails under the force of her gaze. There’s something equally dangerous and dismissive in his eyes that sets an itch beneath his skin, but he can’t look away, can’t hide away, because the Demon is there in his mind with him now, not holding him in place. It doesn’t need to, but it lingers, savouring his terror, his helplessness, almost giving the sense that it’s displaying him or offering him up on a flatter, and Freed doesn’t want to think what that might mean for him.

“Impressive.” The word is accompanied by pain, claws breaking the skin. It’s a test he realises, but not for him, but the Demon. Almost hopes that it – he – will fail and be struck down, death better than he senses lies ahead, and there’s more pain now, the Demon lashing out at him as though it knows exactly what he was thinking even though he had tried to bury it deep. Crying out at the twin assault, although no sound makes it out into the world as the Demon presses their lips shut, he almost misses the movement as the Demon falls to one knee, pulling free of the woman’s grip. But it’s not a surrender he realises dazedly, not precisely, because the Demon’s head is held high, forcing Freed to meet the woman’s gaze as a smirk crept across her face. “Very Impressive,” she pauses, looking at the others around them/

Freed knows that he should pay attention, that he needs to know what he’s against if he’s to stand a chance of fighting, let alone escaping. But the despair is still draped over him, weighing him down, draining his resolve, his hope, his certainty that the others would come for him, and he can’t look away, can’t breathe as a silent conversation seems to happen. Or maybe it’s the roaring sound of terror in his ears that stops him from hearing what is being said. The judgement that is being given, and he trembled when there is a shift in the air, and her attention turns back to him.

“It is agreed, Hell will open its arms once more…for the Tenth Demon Gate.”


	5. Chapter 5

The Guild is gone.

Laxus had known the moment that he’d seen the cloud what the target had been, and maybe Freed was right to say that you knew when something precious was gone because the certainty that had pierced him had been like a knife to the chest. _I promised to bring him home,_ is his first conscious thought beyond getting back to the Guild, in the hopes of finding something, or someone left behind, and somehow that hurts worse. Steals his breath and makes speaking impossible. Not that there is anything to say as they make their way back towards Magnolia, the silence between filled with unspeakable words, emotions that none of them is ready to put into words yet.

_Gramps. Freed._

He felt torn in two, in a way that he hadn’t in a long time, his heart twisting and threatening to splinter in completely separate ways at the thought of them. Of Makarov, fighting the urge to ask him to stay and help them, and instead giving him his blessing to go after Freed, to be selfish, who had been there, readying to fight a war against those who had hurt their family. And of Freed, who had looked at him with such relief the moment before the runes had teleported them to safety, and who was out there waiting for him to come for him. He might have lost both of them, because he hadn’t been there, because he wasn’t strong enough, and it feels as though all his words, his growth, has been for nothing, helplessness threatening to consume him. There’s anger too though, the kind of fury that can kindle a storm that can wash away everything, and he’s willing to let it, as soon as he knows…

****

The Guild is here.

Freed thinks that he should feel relieved, a burst of hope or something, because if Fairy Tail is here then Laxus, Ever and Bickslow can’t be far behind. Instead, that thought terrifies him. If that is what he is even feeling, and he’s not sure anymore, about anything. Nothing is his anymore. His body moves and laughs and talks, stalking strange hallways, claiming kinship with these Demons, and there is nothing he can do to stop that. He feels like he’s beaten himself bloody, trying to claw his way out of the darkness, out the chains that aren’t chains that flow over his skin, a constant burn that sears his body and locks him inside. His thoughts aren’t even his, not really, every single one his heard, read, and mocked by the Demon who walks freely in his skin, stronger than ever.

_Forever…_

If he has already lost all of that, then who is to say what he is feeling anymore? Because, even as his heart flutters, warms and turns cold with dread at the thought of Laxus and the others rushing to help him, charging straight into the path of the monster he has become, there is a vicious glee rising in his chest. _It’s the Demon. It’s him, it’s not me,_ he tries to tell himself, but it’s as weak and pointless as every other reassurance that he’s tried to give himself since this nightmare began. Since he found himself dragged into hell, or rather since the Demon had walked them directly in through the front gates. Because he’s not sure, there’s a him anymore. He can’t deny that there’s a Demon, can’t do anything other than accept it as their attention is riveted on the view of Fairy Tail as the Guild is released from what he recognises as Cana’s cards, charging towards Tartaros’ base, running straight into the teeth of hell. And he knows that he will be expected to bite.

That he will bite because the Demon is hungry for destruction and angry.

“They’re not here…” He feels himself say and feels sick at the fury in that growl, the longing, and his heart sinks as he realises that the Demon had felt his hope and his terror. That even now, when Freed is trapped, and falling apart at the seams, it wants to break him completely, and that it knows the one way to that. _Don’t touch them,_ he snarls with every bit of emotion and strength that he thinks he can claim as his own, and pays for it as the chains tighter, purple light flaring for a moment as he finds himself silenced even here in his own mind.

“I told you they wouldn’t survive.” It’s the Demon that had attacked them – Tempester – he had been introduced as once Freed had been christened as the tenth gate. He’s different now, his form changed and again Freed is reminded of glass walls, and greyish-green liquid turning dark around him. _What did they do to us?_ There’s no answer, not that he had expected one, and he’s not even sure the Demon can hear him at the moment. He stares at Tempester, tries not to think about what he’d just said, the certainty in his voice even though Freed can vaguely remember them mentioning that his memory was debatable. Or maybe, that had been Freed’s imagination trying to through him a lifeline, because even though he has a vague memory of Laxus and the others disappearing, he doesn’t know, not for sure. _Please…_ He doesn’t want to believe, won’t believe until he has irrevocable proof in front of him, because he has always thought that he would know if something had happened to the others, especially Laxus, and part of him. A piece that he believes he can still claim as his own, as it hurts in a way that is all too human, knows that Laxus is still out there, still looking for him… 

“You did,” the Demon acknowledges. “But, this one says differently…” It taps their chest with clawed fingers, unflinching at the pain, even as Freed feels the burn of skin breaking, the warmth of blood against chilled skin, and there’s a pause. It’s waiting, just half a beat, and belatedly Freed realises it’s a test to see if he will fight back, if he can do anything against what is being done to him, to his body. _Don’t you trust them?_ He wants to ask, but he’s still silenced, and all he can do is file that thought away, wondering if he’s stumbled on a crack in its defences, although there’s nothing he can do about it yet, not when even his thoughts are trapped and locked inside. All he can do is exist, caught in the Demon’s regard for a moment longer, before feeling his lips pulled into a triumphant smirk. “He believes they’re alive, and I am inclined to agree.”

“I said…”

“Enough.” It’s the woman who had proclaimed his fate, her voice sharp and Freed wonders if the Demon has just overstepped its mark, after all, they are still new, untested. “They are not to be allowed to interfere with our plan or Face,” she’s not looking at him, but at Seilah – the apparent architect of the current situation – who looks as strained as Freed feels. But he knows that she’s not an ally, which is confirmed when her expression turns almost vicious as she nods.

“Yes, Kyoko-sama…”

Kyoko turns back to him, judging him for a moment. “If they appear, they are yours as agreed, until then, prove that you are worthy of Tartaros.” _A deal with the devil,_ Freed thinks. Wishing that he knew what exactly the Demon had agreed to do, and for what, because it had never wanted to work with anyone before. Then again, beside Mira, it had never encountered anything or anyone resembling a Demon. _Mira…_ Mira had been there, he remembers, and he feels sick all over again at the thought of her enduring anything like this. Had she been chained to? Would she be? But there’s nothing he can do for her when he’s not even free to think for himself. When the Demon is bowing, almost respectful of the woman in front of him, and all Freed can do is lurk as a silent spectator in his own mind.

_Laxus, Ever, Bickslow…if you’re alive…stay away…_

****

Fairy Tail wasn’t just gone. It had been obliterated. When they’d finally hit the outskirts of Magnolia, it had been to find the entire town encased in chaos. Civilians trying to get as far away from the scene of destruction as those mages who weren’t attached to the Guild, and the guards tried to deal with debris and other damage that spread out from the epicentre of the blast.

A crater marked the spot, and Laxus faltered at its edge.

_Gramps._

He couldn’t see how anyone could have survived such complete and utter destruction, with not even a single wall left standing. It was hard to comprehend that he building that he had stood in not long ago, the place he had come to call home all over again was just gone…even harder to understand, was the idea that the Guild was gone, not the building, but the people. Friends. Family. _Gramps._ And his knees threaten to give out when his eyes fall on the scorched and tattered remnant of the guild flag caught in the breeze, as it flapped, trapped beneath debris.

“How did this happen?” Bickslow asked.

_What does that matter?_ Laxus wanted to ask, came within an inch of shouting it at the other man before pausing, because how had it happened? The Guild had been braced for an attack, preparing themselves for war. They had been alert, searching for any sign of incoming enemies after Laxus and the others had been attacked so close to home, and aware of the fact that Tartaros considered Fairy Tail a threat. As much as he sometimes questioned Makarov’s seemingly carefree nature, he knew that the old man wouldn’t have been caught off guard at such a time. So, how had Tartaros got close enough to do this?”

“And where is everybody? There should at least be…” _Bodies…_ Evergreen couldn’t finish what she was saying, and she didn’t need to, the word hanging heavy in the air for a moment before Laxus turned, gaze searching, because she’s right. The destruction of the Guild is written across the area around them, but there’s no sign that anyone was in it when it exploded, and there would be some sign, even if they had been close to the centre of the explosion, and yet there’s nothing. As though everyone had just vanished into thin air, and Laxus tries to quell the surge of relief, not wanting to let himself hope until they know for sure.

“Could they have escaped? Or had they…” Bickslow trailed off, falling silent and Laxus turned to look at him, dread clouding the hope that he hadn’t been as successful in subduing as he’d hoped, half expecting to see the other man pointing at something. Instead, Bickslow was frozen in place, mouth open, and attention riveted on the sky above, and Laxus immediately twisted to see what he was staring at just as he heard Evergreen whisper.

“What is that?”

The cloud of smoke and dust that had been obscuring the area above the town was slowly clearing, affording them a glimpse of blue skies, and the looming shadow of a peculiar, cube-shaped island floating slowly, steadily towards Magnolia.

“Tartaros,” Laxus breathed. He could not see too much from where they were, but as he heard more alarmed shouts spreading through the town as other people noticed the approaching island, he knew without a doubt that this was Tartaros. It explained why they hadn’t had any information on their base of operations. Why even though the other guilds in the Balam Alliance had been located, brought to heel or destroyed, not even the Council had been able to work out how to find the third part of the Alliance. It was an ingenious plan. After all, who would think to look for the depths of hell in the sky above their heads?

_And Freed is there._

He knew it, refusing to listen to even the slightest whisper of doubt, and he took a step forward, only to pause as up above there was a flash against the rock of the Cube and his eyes widened. At this distance, it was hard to make out, but he recognised that light, could practically feel the warmth of the protective wrath that would be fuelling it. “Gramps…”

“You think they…?” Bickslow gestured, and Laxus grinned. It wasn’t a pleasant grin, but one that promised chaos and retribution.

“I believe,” and he stressed the second word, meeting their gazes. “That Tartaros tried to spring a trap but missed their mark.” He feels almost giddy with hope at that moment, because if he’s right – and he can’t be wrong, because that isn’t worth thinking about – then both parts of his family are up there, fighting, and waiting for him. Tartaros had made a mistake. It doesn’t outweigh their other victories, the destruction of the Council, their attack on him and the others, and whatever they had done to get Freed in their grasp, but it’s a mistake, and Laxus knew better than anyone that where there was one mistake, there would be others. There are more flashes of light from above, and Laxus is moving, unable to stand by while the Guild is fighting above them, reaching for Bickslow and Evergreen, even as the latter started to ask.

“How are we getting up there? We could…” He doesn’t take the time to answer, making sure that he has a firm hold on both of them, eyes locked on the island above. _Freed. Gramps,_ he thinks as the sky above him darks, storm clouds rushing in with unnatural speed, and when he hears the first distant rumble of thunder, he sprang skywards, lightning crackling around him.

_We’re coming._

****

_Stop this! Stop this!_ Freed was pleading, beginning, willing to supplicate himself on his knees if it would make the Demon listen to him for just a moment, as he caught another glimpse of a familiar face, before he lashed out, dark claws raking skin. Blood rising under his assault and twisting into something more as the Demon’s power flared. The same writing that was a corruption of Freed’s own runes spreading across the unfortunate mage’s chest, glowing fiercely until it sank deep within the skin and the air was flooded with an agonised scream as his victim writhed. 

_Please stop!_

The Demon laughed and Freed could feel its pleasure as though it was his own. It was revelling in his pain, in the lump of guilt that had risen in his throat. At the self-loathing that tore at him, in the same way, spectral chains so similar to the ones binding him in his own body lashed at the other mage. It wanted more, Freed could feel it, a hunger that couldn’t be satiated, and there were tears on his cheeks as he felt it moving as the mage fell still and silent behind him. Stalking forward into the battle, darkness rising around them, as it wove a web of runes around them.

_Stop!_

Freed flung himself at the barrier holding him in his own mind, at the chains binding him in place. It was a futile attack; he knew that even as he moved. He had no magic, no weapon that he could use, even if he could exploit the cracks in the Demon’s position within Tartaros, but he had to do something, no matter how futile, because he could hear people crying out around him. Voices that he knew, even if he couldn’t put a name to them right now, catching fleeting glimpses of faces that he knew twisted in fear and dawning horror as they saw him. _It’s not me,_ he wanted to scream, but he didn’t have a voice. Knowing they wouldn’t believe him. How could they when he looked like this with the Demon smirking, and triumphant even as the first few stumbled into the web of pain and destruction it had woven around them. Seemingly uncaring that there were some of the Tartaros foot soldiers caught in it too, and then Freed felt something wrap around him too. Finding himself jerking to a halt, unable to move another step, and he had a moment to realise that the darkness had hidden the web that had been woven around him in turn.

 _Share their pain, human,_ the Demon whispered, its voice filling the space around him until he felt as though the words were vibrating through every inch of his body. _Know what it is you are inflicting on them._

The pain hit then, and it was worse than anything Freed had ever experienced, and it was everything. He was screaming, writhing in the confines of his own mind, as the web tightened around him, wrapping him in a cocoon of agony. It was fire and ice and lightning. A thousand knives sinking into his body in an instance and setting nerves alight with a pain that threatened to undo it all. Worse though was the screams and shouts that echoed around him, friends and foe alike caught in the Demon’s cruel grasp, in his grasp, because it was his name that was being shouted, fear and confused fury in their voices and Freed felt some last bastion of himself crumble beneath the weight of it all.

_It’s not me…_

_It’s not…_

Somewhere above him, he thought that he heard thunder rumble and a traitorous part of his heart leapt in his chest, but it wasn’t enough, and he was sinking. Slinking away into the sanctuary of oblivion even as lightning arched across the sky.

_…I’m sorry._

****

Fairy Tail was fighting.

Laxus hadn’t truly dared to let himself believe it until the island – if that was even what it was – loomed massive in the air above them. Drawing closer by the second as he poured as much magic as he dared into propelling the three of them towards it, aware of the fight to come. Now they could make out the fighting that was spreading across the surface. Distorted he realised, stomach lurching as he realised that there was some gravity magic at play as his mind tried to tell him that fighting mages and armoured – what he guessed were Tartaros forces, appeared to be fighting upside down without hindrance. _Alive, they were alive,_ he thought, eyes searching for a glimpse of Makarov or a flash of green, desperate and worried in equal measure, particularly with thought of Freed, because he wanted to find him, but not here.

Not fighting against the Guild.

It was chaos, and the speed at which they were moving through the storm that had gathered around him, meant that he could barely make sense of what he was seeing. _Hold on, we’re coming,_ he thought instead, tightening his grip on Evergreen and Bickslow highly aware of the drop beneath them, and even though they had their own ways of catching themselves, he didn’t want to risk it. Now, he could feel the first tugs of whatever gravity had been attached to the Cube, feeling it threatening to pull him off course.

“This is going to be a rough landing!” He shouted, hoping that the other two could hear him as he pushed himself harder, just as he felt Evergreen tense against him, grateful for his sharpened hearing as he caught the sharp intake of breath followed by a pained.

“Freed…”

There was a roaring sound in his ears that had nothing to do with his magic or the rumble of thunder, and everything to do with the complicated rush of hope and dread that flooded him, as he looked up, barely holding out against the pull of the gravity. It took him precious seconds to see him, the flash of green and purple a familiar sight, and his breath caught.

_Freed…_


	6. Chapter 6

Freed was _right_ there.

Not close enough for Laxus to be able to make out his features or make sense of the darkness that seemed to have wreathed itself around his partner like a cloak that moved against the breeze, shifting with a life of its own. But, close enough for him to realise that Freed or rather the Demon - because he knew that it wasn’t Freed in control at the moment even without being able to the truth written across his partner’s face – was fighting against Fairy Tail, not with them. That the path of destruction spreading out in his wake, was not Freed fighting his way to freedom as Laxus had dared to let himself hope it was for a fleeting second. But rather the Demon on a rampage and even now as they moved closer, Laxus pouring as much magic as he could into propelling them forwards, he saw more people falling, and his stomach churned at the sight.

_Freed will never forgive himself._

Part of him hoped that Freed was buried so deep inside himself right now that he had no idea what his body was being used to do because while the guilt would still be there, it would be lesser. Or at least not etched into his memory. However, he knew even as he thought that, that the Demon wouldn’t have granted Freed that release. It had always made sure that Freed had a front-row seat whenever it had managed to seize control in the past, as though hoping that forcing Freed to see what it was doing to them, would be enough to paralyse his partner and stop him fighting back. It hadn’t worked in the past, although it had left scars that only appeared late at night when Freed was haunted by nightmares of what he could have done to Laxus and his best friends. But this was different, this wasn’t just Freed losing control.

They were so close now, and Laxus had just felt the first sharp tug of whatever gravity magic surrounded the Cube, pulled to the side when the entire Cube seemed to come alive. It rocked violently, sending everyone on the surface stumbling, and then as they watched the gravity seemed to lose power, and more than one mage went tumbling past them, and Laxus and the others had no chance to catch them. Although Laxus’ attention was riveted on Freed, his partner had managed to catch himself in what seemed to be a dark web woven between protruding rock formations. At least until, he felt rather than heard Bickslow cursing and Evergreen going rigid with shock, tearing his attention away from Freed and to the transformation that what he was fast realising was not just an island was undergoing.

“Laxus!” A rock protrusion erupted out of the rocking Cube, and only Bickslow’s shouted warning, almost lost in the rumbling noise and cries of those falling into the sky allowed Laxus to dodge to the side. Not quickly enough, as there was a hard impact with his back, and he lost his grip on the other two who were ripped away from him with panicked shouts. Laxus had no time to reach for them or even to steady himself because the protrusion was growing as were several others. Debris was also raining down on him from above, forcing him to dodge left and right as he was forced into a retreat. Losing sight of Freed and the others amid the chaos, and in the end, he was forced to drop back towards the ground with a curse.

_Freed, hold on…_

****

Freed was wrenched out of the darkness, the Demon refusing to allow him even that reprieve for more than a few precious moments. Merciless in its delight, as it forced his attention to the chaos and destruction spreading around him. There was a fleeting relief as he realised the Demon had paused, that it was no longer his hands hurting his guildmates. However, that swiftly became horror, as he watched the pinkish-purple goo that seemed to be seeping from the very core of the island that he now realised was rocking violently beneath his feet. It felt as dangerous as the web the Demon had spun around him, and he wanted to recoil, to pull away as it seeped across the ground towards them. There was laugher in the back of his mind, as it reached them and then swept around them, parting as though he was an island in the sea as it swept in at high tide.

The Fairy Tail mages and Tartaros foot soldiers were not as lucky, as the goo rolled towards them, an endless, creeping tide that fed the projectiles that lashed out towards them. The more they struggled, the deeper they seemed to sink into it, and more than one person was crying out to him, pleading for his help even after what he had just done to them. _Help them, or let me help them,_ Freed pleaded, throwing himself against the walls of his prison, again and again, already knowing that it wasn’t going to work because he could feel the dark amusement that swirled around him. _Please,_ his voice cracked and broke, as his hands slid down the barrier, aching and bleeding as his knees gave out beneath him, and he bowed his head, hating his weakness as much as he hated what he was being forced to do. Yet, at the same time, he felt the Demon take an interest, eyes locked on him, on his submission.

_Please…_

There was a pause, one that lasted mere seconds but felt like a lifetime and Freed couldn’t breathe, torn between terror and hope. He had no illusions, if he found even a shred of mercy in the monster, it wouldn’t buy his freedom, it would erase the blood that was already on his hands, but if he could just do something – save one person – then maybe he wouldn’t be beyond redemption.

Laughter.

Cruel and echoing flowed through the space he was trapped in within his mind and bubbled up from his lips until it seemed that was all there was in the world.

The world that had grown still beneath them still and silent, as though everyone and everything beyond them was holding his breath, and he blinked. _Such pretty pleas, but you were too late,_ the Demon taunted as Freed took in the sight that met his horrified eyes, the people who had surrounded them seconds before now locked in place, transformed into statues locked into their final moments. Reaching for him screams bound to silence as their bodies were locked into the purplish-pink goo that was no longer fluid or alive, but dormant, satiated with everything that it had consumed. Freed closed his eyes, and prayed that it was a nightmare, a trick for the Demon to test him with, but when he opened his eyes again, looking out through the window, the Demon allowed him, the vision didn’t waver in the slightest. _They’re just like you now,_ the Demon purred, laughter giving way to something softer, yet crueller, flooded with triumph.

_A helpless prisoner…_

He wasn’t sure which of them thought it, wasn’t sure whether it was worse that it was both or him alone, not sure of anything anymore as he looked out across friend and enemy alike, and felt more alone than he’d ever felt before this moment.

****

Laxus had caught himself, the storm gathering around him, thunder rumbling continuously now as he watched the transformation of the Cube, something far too close to terror clawing in the pit of his stomach as he stared up into the grinning face of… something. Was it a demon? A trick of magic? He didn’t know, all he knew was that Freed was still up there somewhere above his head, a prisoner, of the island…of the Demon… of Tartaros.

_Freed…_

Movement caught his attention, but he didn’t look away, even as he caught the familiar scents. After the immediate jerk of alarm, he had known they would be fine, trusting them as much as Freed did. A faith that was rewarded a moment later as Evergreen appeared next to him, wings fluttering behind her, keeping her aloft although she did look a little wary as thunder rumbled around them. “What the hell is that?”

“I don’t know, but…”

“Not a chance,” Evergreen informed him tartly, cutting off what he had been about to say and Laxus wanted to growl at her. Freed was up there, which meant that Laxus had to go, there was no other option as long as he drew breath and knew that there was a chance to bring his partner back, but leading the other two into what awaited was something else.

“You told us that we needed to find our way into hell,” Bickslow took over as he came into view as well, balanced somewhat precariously on his dolls, tilting his head towards the looming – whatever the hell the Cube was – lips twisted into a grimace. “I’d say we found it.”

_Hell…_

_…the gates of hell are right in front of us._

He supposed that gave new meaning to the saying ‘ _I’d follow you into hell’_ , and he knew even with the sinking feeling in his chest that brushed a little too close to terror, to doubt, that he would go in, and that the others would follow.

“Freed was fighting against our guildmates,” it was a whisper of sound, almost lost amongst the rumble of thunder and crack of lightning, but he knew that the others had heard him as he caught their uneasy glance. They knew what it meant, both for them and their efforts to bring Freed back to them, and for Freed when he was back to himself and then they were moving, surging ahead of him.

“Then let’s go and bring him back.”

****

There was life in the island Freed realised, a demonic presence that swelled around him, stronger, less human than the monster pulling the strings in his body, and yet distant. As much a puppet in whatever was happening as they were, although that through earned him snarl, and another flash of agony as the web wrapped around him once more. A weakness, a crack in the Demon’s armour and Freed noticed it somewhere amongst the pain, filed it away more from habit than anything else, because how could he use it when even his words couldn’t touch the Demon right now?

All he had was empty, wordless apologies in the prison of his own mind as the Demon prowled through the statues, delighting in his sorrow and guilt, revelling in it. Freed tried to retreat, to recoil from the world, but he wasn’t allowed, as much as he couldn’t touch his own body, he couldn’t touch the darkness, suspended between them in a way he had never experienced before. It was torture, more painful than any agony the Demon could inflict on him with the dark power that swirled around them.

He wasn’t sure how long had passed, how long he had been trapped and drifting when there was a shift in the air around them. One that he recognised, more than he could recognise himself these days, and there in his treacherous heart he felt a spark of something far too close to hope. _Laxus._ There was a pressure, a tension in the air, a storm brewing on the horizon. Freed wasn’t sure when he had come to associate that sensation with home and safety, but he felt it now, even as deeply buried as he was and it was his turn to laugh, a terrible, broken thing, more grief and guilt than true relief or hope. Because, now Laxus would see what he had done, what he had become, and even though the Dragon-slayer had always accepted his darkness before. This was different, and the proof of it was written in the devastation he’d left in his wake. How could Laxus ever forgive that? But he was coming, the sky above them darkening, as thunder rumbled and a bolt of lightning struck the ground not far away and Freed laughed, because of nothing else Laxus would stop him.

The Demon snarled at his thoughts, but none of that showed on its expression as it turned as there was the sound of something, or rather someone slamming into the surface, narrowly missing one of the petrified clusters of mages.

“Laxus…” The Demon whispered, allowing relief and hope to colour its voice and Freed’s broke off, that spark of horror turning to horror as though it had been plunged into the depths of the darkness holding him in place. It had his face, his voice, his memories. Nothing was sacred anymore, and everything he felt, and thought was a weapon that he’d placed in its hands. _Laxus, don’t listen to him. Please…_ He pleaded, but he was trapped and distant as ever, unable to do anything as he saw Laxus straighten from the crouch that he had landed in, expression unreadable as he looked at them.

Did he believe them? Did he know that it wasn’t Freed that was stood in front of him?

In the past, he wouldn’t have doubted for a second, because Laxus had always known. Able to sense the darkness sometimes even before Freed had been aware that he was beginning to slip away, but this was different, the darkness around him was different. Deeper, stronger, and Freed was terrified that, that wasn’t the only thing that was different now.

_Laxus…_

The Dragon-slayer was moving towards them, slow and steady, and his expression was slowly losing its blankness. Softening with what could only be called relief, seemingly blind to the destruction around him and Freed shook his head, battering across the walls of his prison once more. _Laxus! Laxus, it’s not me! It’s not me,_ pain silenced him, and he tasted blood, unable to do anything but watch as Laxus closed the distance between them, reaching for him. Freed couldn’t feel his touch, at least not more than a whisper of it breaking through to his prison, and his eyes burned at having even that stolen from him. “Laxus,” he felt his lips move, voice low and strained, just as Laxus had once told him he sounded like when he was fighting against the Demon. It was a clever trick, a trap woven in a single word, and he was locked in place when Laxus reached up to brush his hair out of his face.

“Freed…”

“You came,” the Demon whispered, sounding relieved and desperate, even as malicious delight flooded the space where Freed was. It was enjoying this and Freed closed his eyes.

“For him,” Laxus’ voice which had been soft, but now it shifted to a growl, and this time Freed did feel the grip on his arm because it turned bruising, and his eyes flew open again. The Dragon-slayer was staring at them, through them, as though he could see right into the depths of the darkness to where Freed was trapped. Seeing him, and the Demon for what they were.

The Demon realised at the exact same moment, and it snarled, the chains around Freed tightening and flashing darker than ever, forcing him deeper as pain rent his mind, threatening to tear him asunder from within. Punishing him for the Demon’s own failure. Then Laxus was gone, flung backwards, as the demonic script flowed between them, lashing out like dark whips, as the Demon sprang back, twisting Freed’s face up into a snarl as it demanded.

“How did you know?”

**

The sight of what had happened to the rest of the guild, and to what Laxus supposed were Tartaros foot soldiers had fed the growing knot of fear in his chest as he passed over the surface of the creature, distantly aware of Evergreen and Bickslow spreading out around him. _Where was Freed?_ Had he been caught up in whatever had happened? Was he…? Laxus couldn’t put that thought into words, the idea that Freed might have been so close and still slipped through his fingers more than he could bear, yet growing, threatening to overwhelm him, until there was a flash of green and purple, wreathed in darkness.

_Freed…_

_…the Demon…_

Lightning crackled around him, and thunder roared as he landed on the ground behind Freed, the impact enough to crack the ground. He was distantly aware of the statues – not statues, his mind reminded him – rocked violently, and he had terrified moment of waiting for them to crack and break even though he was unable to tear his attention away from Freed. There had been a terrible tension in his partner’s figure, but now Freed turned towards him and all thought of anything else fled his mind because for a wild moment he thought that it was his partner who looked back at him.

“Laxus…” Freed whispered, and there was such relief and hope in his words that Laxus found himself being drawn forward despite himself. Turquoise eyes meeting his, with no trace of the darkness that he had expected with the Demon in play, and it made him hesitate before he stepped up and reached for Freed. Felt Freed melt into his touch as he murmured his name once more, and Laxus stared down at him. It looked like Freed, and even the darkness that he had seen before had disappeared, no trace of it remaining in the air immediately around them, and there was no trace of it in Freed’s expression or appearance, as though the Demon had never been there, and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck.

“Freed…” He murmured, reaching up to brush a strand of green hair out of Freed’s face, and there he saw it, a flicker of disgust that couldn’t be hidden entirely, and he knew, and it was a struggle not to wrench his hand away immediately.

“You came,” Freed sounded relieved and desperate, no trace of that disgust bleeding into his voice, stretching out a hand towards him, like a drowning man who saw salvation in front of him.

“For him,” Laxus murmured, trying to keep his voice soft for the real Freed if he was there, trapped deep inside, but he hadn’t been able to stop the growl sliding into his voice as his grip tightened, holding the Demon in place with a firm grip as he stared into Freed’s eyes. _Freed can you see me? Can you hear me?_ He wanted to ask, but he wouldn’t give the Demon the satisfaction, instead taking pleasure in the way its expression twisted in fury as it realised that the game was over, darkness bleeding into Freed’s eyes and skin a split second before darkness erupted between them.

It was Freed’s magic, but not, the runes twisted and mutated into something dark and inhuman, and it burned as it lashed against Laxus, shifting darkness becoming sharp chains lashing against him, forcing him back, away from Freed. His own magic crackled with the threat of retaliation as he braced himself, skidding to a halt, and lifting his head just in time to see the darkness embrace Freed once more. There was no longer any trace of the turquoise in the eyes locked on him, just deep pits of darkness, a gateway to hell he thought – one that Freed was trapped in, and that he had to find to free him from. Because, this wasn’t like anything he’d seen before, as dark chains spread up across Freed’s skin, looking as though they were buried deep within his flesh, or perhaps part of it, and Laxus twitched, longing to reach out and tear them away.

“How did you know?” The Demon demanded, voice a low hiss and Laxus’ lip curled up in a smirk at the frustration in the Demon’s voice. It had placed too much faith in its act, although for what purpose Laxus wasn’t sure, because he knew that the Demon wanted nothing more than to rip them apart, and it had never bothered with the act before.

However, he was not the one to answer the Demon’s question.

“Because the first thing Freed would have said was ‘why are you here?’” Evergreen’s voice rang out, as she stepped out into position behind Freed.

“Or an apology,” Bickslow added, mirroring her position.

“Or, told me to leave,” Laxus finished, meeting the Demon’s gaze without hesitation and for a moment he could have sworn that there was a flicker of Freed in the dark eyes before it grinned at him in turn. There was something malevolent in that expression that immediately had the Dragon-slayer on edge.

“No wonder, he felt so hopeful at the sight of you,” the Demon said with a laugh, that was as cruel as it was amused and Laxus flinched, not liking the use of the past tense. At the implication that Freed might have given up right in front of his eyes. “But it was too late. You were too late this time.” He turned his head to look at Evergreen and Bickslow, and Laxus tensed, ready to lunge forward if it made any move towards them, knowing that Freed would never live with himself if he hurt them. Still, after a moment it’s attention shifted back to Laxus, and it tilted his head, studying the Dragon-slayer. “You can’t bring him back this time, you know?” It asked, as conversationally as though they were discussing the weather.

“I will bring him back.”

“The problem is, he isn’t yours anymore,” the Demon seemed unfazed by the promise, the sheer certainty that Laxus had forced into his voice. “He’s mine.” Fingers, clawed now, with darkness seeping from them to cloud the air reached up, tearing through cloth, and baring Freed’s shoulder to the air.

It took Laxus, a long, painful moment to spot it amongst the writhing pattern of chains that constantly moved across Freed’s skin, a living, breathing tattoo. But there nestled amongst that chaos, seemingly scorched into the pale skin was a mark. “What did you do?” The question slipped out, more pained than growling before Laxus could even think about stopping it, and he knew that he had played right into the Demon’s gaze when it grinned at him.

It wasn’t a pleasant grin, but one that promised pain.

“I brought him home,” the Demon stepped forward, and the darkness was spreading now, barriers rising around them, a cruel mockery of the barriers that Freed had erected to protect them before. “He paved the way for this,” it continued, reaching out to run a claw over one of the barriers. The writing that wasn’t quite runes glowing purplish-red under its touch, and distantly he heard Evergreen hissing a warning for them to stay away with it, seeming to recognise something in the writing. Then again she had always been better with the runes than either of them, but Laxus couldn’t spare her a glance, because the Demon was advancing now. Prowling towards him and there was a pressure in the air that he had never felt before from Freed or the Demon. It was dark, like the absolute blackness of cloud-covered night, and cold, and hungry…and powerful. “So did you, because without you he would have kept fighting me, but then he sacrificed himself and his magic, and here we are.”

“That’s not an answer,” Laxus snarled, all pretence of patience disappearing because this wasn’t Freed and he didn’t need to be able to see or hear Freed to know that every word this creature was saying, would be breaking his partner a little more. “What did you do?” He demanded, each word enunciated by an ominous rumble above them, and static crackled against the barriers, making them flare. Rather than looking concerned, the Demon looked delighted at his anger, at his readiness to fight.

“We…” It said deliberately, leaving Laxus in no doubt that there would be no getting Freed back from this without a fight. Its eyes alight with unholy delight as it met Laxus’ gaze, and he could practically feel the darkness stretched around them, quivering with anticipation. “Embraced Hell…or should that be we were embraced by Tartaros, as the Tenth Demon Gate…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments, and I apologise for the delay. A few stressful days at work, combined with not sleeping resulted in me being both rather under the weather this weekend, but also caused a bit of havoc with my dyslexia that made editing/writing impossible. Chapter 7 will be up tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

_The Tenth Demon Gate…?_

There was a roaring noise in Laxus’ ears that had nothing for the storm that was intensifying over his head, as he took a numb step backwards, away from the approaching, smirking Demon. _Tenth Demon Gate…_ His stomach and heart were doing a complicated dance, and he couldn’t stop his gaze from flicking back to the mark that had no place being anywhere on Freed’s skin, yet stood there in defiance of his feelings, livid against pale skin. Tartaros. Not only had they made war on Fairy Tail and forced Freed into a position where he’d felt that the only choice he had to save them was to sacrifice himself, but they had marked him, claimed him as their own against Freed’s will. Worse, while that was one of the most visible signs of what had been done to the Rune Mage, Laxus had a feeling that was barely scratching the surface, and his hands curled into fists at his side as he stared at Freed, searching for some sign that his Freed knew where he was.

_What did they do to you Freed?_

It all made a horrible, terrible sense as the darkness surged around them, a living, breathing thing bent on destruction as it obscured his view of Bickslow and Evergreen, the Demon focused on him for the moment. That at least was a relief because it meant that he could focus on Freed, although he very little hope of them avoiding the fallout. After all, they were as much an anchor for Freed as he was, and they had already made it plain by following him here into hell that they weren’t going to stay out this. For now, though he focused on the Demon, and took a deep breath, realising for the first time that he could scarcely smell Freed, the scent so faint that it was as though Freed had just brushed past the Demon rather than inhabiting the same body. Instead, the scent that filled his nose reminded him far too much of the Demon they had fought at the restaurant, and he felt sick as he realised that this was where Freed’s sacrifice had brought him.

“Why?” He breathed, and this time he wasn’t trying to talk to Freed but the Demon. He knew the answer already, knew that the Demon had been after his freedom all this time.

_“I can understand it,” Freed murmured, finally breaking the strained silence that had settled over them after Laxus had managed to coax him into bed with him. Wrapping his arms tightly around the Rune Mage to discourage any thoughts he might have had about slipping away. They both bore the evidence of his demonic side’s latest break for freedom, Laxus’ arms heavily bandaged from where clawed fingers had left deep gouges in his skin. While, Freed was equally bandaged from where Laxus and the others had been forced to fight him when the Demon had broken free in a settled area, hellbent on destruction._

_“Understand what?”_

_“Why it wants to break free,” Freed whispered. Carefully looking anywhere but at Laxus’ face even though the Dragon-slayer had gently rolled him over so that they were facing one another. Keeping his gaze fixated somewhere in the region of the Dragon-slayer’s chest. “Even if I didn’t anyway, I feel it every time it gets control, that feeling of being trapped, locked away within your own body…unwanted…” Laxus bit back his immediate response that it was completely different because it was Freed’s body, that he was the one that bore the brunt of both the break for freedom and whatever destruction was caused while the Demon was freed. He had a feeling that wasn’t the response that Freed would accept right now, even if part of him agreed with Laxus, and instead, he took a moment, dipping his head to press a kiss to Freed’s forehead._

_“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that,” he said finally, choosing his words with care. “Understanding it I mean, because as hard as it can be to admit it is part of you.” Freed’s grip tightened, and he knew that his partner was listening carefully, searching for any rebuke in his words, any hint of fear or disgust towards the Demon that shared his body._

_He wouldn’t find it._

_Laxus had made that mistake once, and only once, the first time he had come face to face with the darker side of Freed, and that had been more surprise and worry than anything. He didn’t like it, and he had never hidden that. Still, he accepted it, just as he accepted the fact that Freed liked to live his life by a careful set of rules even beyond the Demon. Or that Freed could and would forget all about him in favour of a book, and that his partner was more than happy to tell him when he was being an idiot. It was part of him. “Even I can understand that much, but Freed…” He paused, knowing that it would play on Freed’s innate curiosity, and sure enough there was a pause and then Freed lifted his head with a soft, questioning noise and slowly met his gaze. “The difference is the price of that freedom if the Demon was free…”_

_“I know,” Freed cut him off, curling close, grip loosening on his arms in favour of his fingers sliding along the bandaged arms. “I know, but… sometimes, I wonder…” I wonder if it’s right that I am free because we are one and the same… He didn’t say the words, but he didn’t need to. This was a conversation that they’d had far too many times before and one that Laxus had no real answers too unless they found a way to strip the Demon away completely. He didn’t think Freed would accept that as an option even if it was laid before him because it would be too much like losing a part of himself. Laxus pulled him closer with a soft hum, the only acknowledgement of the words left unspoken, kissing him again, a silent acceptance of who he was._

“You already know the answer.” For half a moment, he could almost pretend that it was Freed who had answered him because the irritation was purely his partner, an unfortunate reminder of how close the boundary between the two was. Then he met the Demon’s eyes, and all he could see was the hunger for destruction, of him, of the Raijinshuu, of Freed himself. It had its freedom, had found some way to lock Freed away deeper than Laxus had ever seen, to the point where he could barely smell him, and there was no humanity in the dark depths of those eyes, and it still wasn’t enough. It wanted to make sure that Freed had nothing to help him fight back, no reason to even try to break free.

“I do,” he replied straightening. “But this is different, isn’t it?”

That seemed to catch the Demon by surprise because it paused in its approach and there was a flicker in its eyes, not quite human, but close as confusion clouded its expression for a moment. As though it hadn’t expected understanding from Laxus of all people. It didn’t have to know that the words tasted foul in his mouth, or that he wanted nothing more than to reach out and shake it until whatever hold it had over Freed broke and it was his partner he was holding in his arms. “Different…” The Demon murmured, more to itself than to Laxus at this point, a hand coming up to press against the new guild mark on its shoulder, sharp claws tracing the edges of it, and Laxus half expected to see blood welling, but it seemed more thoughtful than intent on harm right then. “Yes, I suppose it is…” Laxus blinked at that, having expected it to snarl and dismiss his claim, not this strangely civil tone. “After all, this time, none of you will be driving me back into the darkness.”

The attack when it came was unexpected, that last word morphing into a snarl as the Demon lunged at him, and Laxus barely managed to throw both arms up in time to deflect the worst of the attack, feeling the claws tearing into his skin. There was no reprieve, darkness whipping towards him and Laxus had to retreat, only to find his way blocked by the barrier the Demon had erected earlier. The moment he brushed it, the writing came to life, burning a deep crimson and there was an ominous crackling of energy at his back, and even as he leapt forward, he knew that it was too late, as a dozen dark tendrils lashed out towards him. They burned as they wrapped around him, ice and fire combined, and then he was being yanked back into the barrier, and all he knew was pain, and somewhere over it, the sound of the Demon laughing.

****

_But this is different, isn’t it?_

Freed had almost wanted to weep at the quiet question. In fact, he had a feeling that the only reason he hadn’t was that he didn’t dare do anything that might tip the careful balance they were in, Laxus and the Demon facing one another, and Freed a helpless spectator to a situation he couldn’t influence. _Run away,_ he wanted to shout at the Dragon-slayer, at the rest of the Raijinshuu who he could feel tentatively probing the barriers the Demon had set up. _Leave me,_ he wanted to beg, even though he knew from past experience that they wouldn’t. Although Laxus was right, this time was different, and maybe if they knew what he had done, they would listen to him this time, but he couldn’t tell them. His lips were moving again, but not with the words that he wanted to say but with the Demon’s words. “Different…” There was a general sense of puzzlement, followed by pain. An awful tearing sensation in his mind as he felt the Demon rifling through his thoughts and memories until buried deep, he found a conversation with Laxus that even Freed had half-forgotten. The Demon grinned at him in the darkness, sensing his dismay, but not letting its glee bleed outwards, as instead it ran clawed fingers over the guild mark on its shoulder.

The guild mark that Freed had been mercifully oblivious until the Demon had shown it to Laxus. Seeing it now out of the corner of his eye, it left him feeling sick to his stomach. He had never been able to do anything about the scales that spread across his skin when the Demon took over, or the scars that such lapses in control unavoidably left behind, but this was different. Worse. The chains that shifted and shimmered across his skin burned, and left him trapped and helpless in his own skin, but that mark was a brand, a loss of self that he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to come back from. “Yes, I suppose it is…” The Demon was speaking again, and Freed had the impression that it wasn’t just answering Laxus. But also gleefully acknowledging his own dark thoughts, pressing hard enough for blood to well just beneath the mark so that Freed would not be able to forget it. “After all, this time, none of you will be driving me back into the darkness.”

Freed hadn’t felt the bunching of muscles, and the attack when it came caught him by surprise as much as it caught Laxus, and his heart was in his mouth. _NO!_ The web was around him again, holding him in place, forcing his head forward so that he couldn’t look away from the sight of Laxus retreating into the barrier. The Dragon-slayer’s expression giving away to alarm and then pain, as tendrils wrapped around him and yanked him back into the barrier. _LAXUS! LAXUS!_ Freed fought then, in a way that he hadn’t been able to fight for himself, flinging himself against the restraints, again and again, barely feeling the pain that washed over him, retaliation for his defiance. Every part of him fixated on Laxus.

Then the Dragon-slayer screamed…

The Demon was laughing, cackling as it advanced on Laxus who was thrashing, caught between the tendrils and the barrier. His head thrown back as he twisted against it and Freed could see markings like the chains creeping over his own skin beginning to spread across the Dragon-slayer’s skin. _Stop it! Stop it! I won’t fight. I won’t let him call me back. You can have me, this body, just, please…_ Freed was begging now, and not caring what he was saying, what he was offering. He had always hated when his loss of control hurt anyone, especially those nearest and dearest to him, and it had almost broken him more times than he could count, but not like this. It had never been like this. The Demon’s desire to hurt, to kill, so potent that he could practically taste it, and so he begged, teetering on the edge, ready to shatter himself completely, to abandon all hope if it would protect Laxus and the others. _Please,_ he whispered, slumping in the restraining embrace of the web, as he forced the fight to drain from his limbs. _Please…_

There was a pause, and Freed couldn’t breathe, waiting to see if his words would be heeded or if in his desperation he had just signed the Dragon-slayer’s fate, knowing that it could go either way with the Demon’s capricious nature.

Then Laxus fell silent.

Freed frantically looking at him, terrified of what he might find but unable not to. Laxus was still conscious but slumped against the barrier, still held in place by the tendrils and breathing heavily, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. _Laxus._ He ached to reach out and soothe the pain written across the Dragon-slayer’s face, to wipe away the blood, to kiss him…pain sparked through him this time, stronger than before. It was his turn to cry out, and out of the corner of his eye it seemed as though Laxus had twitched, head tilted as though he had somehow heard Freed’s cries from where he was buried. _You will tell him, break his heart, destroy it…then I might show mercy,_ the Demon was there, purring in his ear, making sure that he couldn’t miss its words even over the pain wracking him, and Freed’s heart twisted and splintered there and then. There was no thought of refusing it though, he didn’t have the strength, didn’t have anything but a desperate, burning hope that he might at least be able to spare them.

_I will…_

****

Laxus hadn’t expected the pain to end like that, and something told him that it wasn’t a good thing, even as relief flooded him. He could taste copper on his tongue, wincing as he realised that he had bitten it in the throes of his agony. He could have broken free, he was reasonably sure of that, the problem was he wasn’t sure if the Demon – and by extension Freed – was connected to the tendrils or the barriers. Knowing that was how Freed’s barriers had worked, and not sure if that had carried over to these. Then there was Bickslow and Evergreen, still out of sight. However, he could just make out their voices and movement through the darkness, cut off from him, and cautious of the barriers but ready to try and burst out, who might have been caught in whatever backlash he triggered.

So, why had it stopped now?

The Demon was toying with them, he knew that much, but he couldn’t see it taking mercy on them, and it must know that the longer it took, the more chance there was of them fighting back. Or more importantly, of them finding a way to reach Freed no matter how deeply he was buried in his own body, so why risk it, and why now? He lifted his head, which was much harder than he liked and studied the Demon which was stood a short distance away, eyes unfocused as though it was having an internal conversation. _As though Freed was fighting,_ Laxus thought and dared to let himself hope, letting his head slump towards his chest and taking a moment to catch his breath, even as he gathered his strength and magic, ready to attack the moment Freed gave him the signal.

“L-Laxus…” He stiffened. The Demon was many things, and its earlier act of being Freed had come worryingly close to tricking him for a moment at least, but there was so much emotion in that single wavering word, that no one who wasn’t human could ever hope to emulate it. He lifted his head again, and this time the Demon was waiting and met his gaze.

No, not the Demon, or not entirely…

Freed was looking back at him, one eye a swirling mix of turquoise and darkness, and his expression was wrong, stilted, as though he wasn’t entirely in control of his facial muscles, and a low growl rumbled in the Dragon-slayer’s throat. It was his partner who was speaking, but he wasn’t in control, his consciousness, his voice only reaching the surface because the Demon allowed it, and it was clear it was a short leash as Freed quivered and gasped, as though struggling just to breath with his body caught between conflicting minds.

“Freed…” Laxus didn’t let his fury bleed into his voice, knowing that he might only have this precious moment to try and breakthrough to Freed and convince him that he wasn’t alone. That he still had reason to fight, regardless of what had been done to him, or what he had been forced to do while under the Demon’s control, and for a moment it looked as though Freed might shatter just from the soft tone. _What did they do to you? What did they force you to do?_ Because Laxus would never believe that Freed had done anything willingly to lead to this moment, at least not beyond sacrificing himself to protect them, allowing the Demon to get that first foothold, but even that had been out of his control. A moment with impossible choices that Laxus had made worse by trying to handle it himself, leaving Freed to deal with the aftermath. “Freed, none of this was your fault. If…”

“Enough,” Freed’s voice was quiet, but Laxus heard him clearly enough, just as he saw the waver from a moment before had bled into his body, his partner’s hands trembling as he curled clawed fingers into his clothes as though afraid to leave them free. “You shouldn’t have come here.” That sounded more like what Laxus and the others had been expecting when they’d first found him, the element that had been missing from the Demon’s performance, but there was something wrong with hearing it now. Or rather with the way that Freed had said it, because it wasn’t the desperate, pleading that the Dragon-slayer had come to associate with such requests, where hope and despair, and a need to protect them, even from himself overwhelmed the Rune Mage. There was ice in those words, or something colder, something brittle and fragile, and studying Freed, Laxus had a sinking feeling that it was a reflection of Freed at that moment. That a single misspoken word or even the softest push might shatter Freed at this moment.

“Yet, here I am,” he said, cautiously testing the waters, even as he tugged on his restraints as surreptitiously as possible. There was nothing to like about the current situation, but there was something about Freed’s demeanour that had him on edge, and his attention shifted to the eye that was still wholly dark, intensely aware that the Demon was still there. Listening, weighing their words. _What game are you playing?_ He thought, before focusing on Freed, on the turquoise and flicker of too-human pain that greeted his next words. “We were always going to come for you.” _Please don’t have forgotten that_ he thought, because no matter how often Freed had pleaded with them not to come, he had always known that they would, that faith as much of an anchor as they were.

“Yes, I knew,” Freed replied, voice cold and emotionless and Laxus had to check that it was still Freed speaking or as much of Freed as was being allowed this outlet, a shiver crawling down his spine. Behind Freed, he could see the darkness fading, revealing Bickslow and Evergreen held at bay by similar tendrils. However, they seemed to have avoided being caught by them so far, the pair freezing at whatever they saw in Laxus’ expression, eyes darting between him and Freed. He shook his head, a silent, urgent warning as he saw Bickslow taking a cautious step towards Freed, but it was too late, and the tendrils lashed out, drawing a pained grunt from the Skeith mage as he was trapped against the barrier although it didn’t light up as it had with Laxus. Freed didn’t react to the movement or the result, even though he must’ve been aware of it, at least no physically, but Laxus had long since learned to look for the little signs. Freed was stubborn at the best of times, and sometimes it was the only way for Laxus to know what was in his mind, and that was why he caught the anguish that flickered all too briefly in Freed’s almost human eye before his partner sighed as though disappointed. “I had hoped the fact that I had this,” he lifted a hand to gesture at the mark on his shoulder, doing an admirable job of stopping the quiver in his hand as he did so. “Would have stopped you wasting your time with this farce, but evidently this was too subtle.”

Laxus blinked at the words, and the tone, so cold and dismissive that anyone who didn’t know them would have thought they barely knew one another or worse that they were enemies. It wasn’t Freed, and yet at the same time, it was. Because it was Freed, who was staring at him, although the turquoise was darkened with too many emotions for Laxus to put a name to.

“Freed, what the hell are you saying?” Evergreen demanded, starting forwards as though intending to march up to him and slap him or maybe hug him until he came back to himself, only to be forced to lunge forwards as the tendrils lunged for her too. They missed her, but she was trapped, unable to move closer or back as the barrier shimmered in warning behind her. “You expect us to believe you had any part in any of this?” It didn’t silence her though, and Laxus was grateful, as he wasn’t sure that he trusted his own voice right now as he studied Freed, trying to work out what was going on. Was this a trick? Was Freed lulling the Demon into thinking that he was on his side? He desperately wanted to believe that was the case, but there was something in the gaze levelled at him that told him that wasn’t it.

“Haven’t you worked it out yet?” Freed’s voice cracked out like a whip, and the darkness around him deepened for a moment. “I knew from the moment Tempester walked into that restaurant exactly what he was, and what he offered me.” Laxus filed away the name – not liking how it was spoken, as though the Demon was still alive even as he remembered his words. _Do I have to die once?_ Did they have a way of coming back? What did that mean for Freed? Would he come back like this, even if they managed to force the Demon back?

“You knew…? That was what you were frowning about?” Bickslow demanded, still trapped and struggling to get free now and Laxus wanted to curse, as Freed glanced towards him, a smirk on his lips.

“Of course I knew,” Freed stared at Bickslow for a moment, and at this angle, Laxus couldn’t make out his expression for a moment, but whatever it showed had Bickslow paling and slumping, and Evergreen falling quiet as she stared at Freed as though she had never seen him before. _Freed, what are you doing?_ Laxus refused to believe that this was what Freed wanted. Freed rarely said the words, preferring to show through actions rather than words, but the three of them were his family, closer than the rest of the guild put together, and he would do anything for them. Laxus’ eyes widened, and it took everything he had to choke back the snarl that was building in his throat, just in time too because Freed’s attention swung back to him now, and if it was possible, his expression was even colder. Almost like he had forced himself to look during the Battle of Fairy Tail when he had been pushing himself to keep going, to keep following Laxus’ path despite his doubts, only this was ten times worse.

“Freed…” He whispered, even as he caught Bickslow and Evergreen’s eyes and gave the tiniest of nods even though his attention never wavered from Freed.

“Enough,” Freed snapped, and this time Laxus caught it, the echo of laughter beneath his voice. The Demon enjoying every moment of this. He almost admired Freed’s ability not to flinch, or let any sign of the Demon bleed through as he met Laxus’ gaze, and it was the Dragon-slayer who flinched as he felt the gulf opening up between them. “Hell has opened, if you hadn’t noticed,” Freed gestured around them, at the Cube, at the statues of the rest of the guild and this time Laxus didn’t see any hesitation, any distress as Freed looked at the nearest Fairy Tail mages. “The guild is gone, you’re the only ones left, and soon even that won’t matter. Not when Tartaros succeeds.”

“So, kill us then,” Laxus said, not looking at the others. “If you’re with them if you’re so confident that Tartaros will win, then why bother showing us mercy?” Because that was what Freed was trying to do, and Laxus knew that he might have just blown that opportunity out the window. Was sure of it, when for a moment the expression of Freed’s face was utterly, devastatingly human as his face crumpled, and in that instant Laxus saw or the terror, desperation and love that had been missing before.

Then the Demon stepped forward, both eyes dark once more and filled with unholy glee.

“I might have even let you live if you’d just played along, just to watch him break,” it crowed, and Laxus did snarl now, letting his magic build around him. He had played nice before, but that was over, especially as the Demon looked at him and smirked. “He was so desperate, so willing to offer me everything just to give you and them a chance, and you threw that back in his face. When this is done, I want you to remember that you’re the ones that broke him, not me.” The words hurt, more than the earlier attack, more than any physical wound that the Demon could ever hope to inflict, and Laxus embraced it, took it to heart, even as he lunged forward as thunder roared, and lightning crackled around his body.

“NOW!” He bellowed, as the lightning struck the tendrils, illuminating the area with golden light tinged with crimson, as his magic spread through the darkness to hit the barrier. There was no finesse to his efforts, he didn’t have the time or patience to unweave the runic magic behind those barriers. If it even bore more than a passing resemblance to Freed’s runes, and he was distantly aware of Evergreen and Bickslow mirroring his efforts. His tiny nod, a silent confirmation that they had no choice but to fight if they wanted to bring Freed back from this.

The Demon moved then, lunging towards him again, Freed’s face twisted into an awful, feral expression, but it was too late, the combined assault bringing the barriers crashing down with deafening groan that grated on Laxus’ sensitive hearing. And then the Demon was on him, but before it could do more than take a swipe at him, clawed fingers leaving bloody furrows across his face, the other two were there too. Their combined attacks forcing it back, as they moved to flank Laxus who rose to his full height, ignoring the blood that he could feel trickling down his face. Expression hard as he stared at the Demon who had immediately rallied, darkness rising behind it, writhing towards them and Laxus could feeling the rolling hunger in the blackness.

“Freed,” he said, softly, calmly, as though everything wasn’t falling apart around them, pretending that he could see some spark of Freed in the dark eyes. “We are going to bring you back,” he repeated his earlier word, firmer this time. The promise written in the gathering storm above, and the magic that crackled around the three of them, as with a howl of defiant rage the Demon attacked again. The darkness rushing towards them in a deadly, devastating wave.


	8. Chapter 8

“We are going to bring you back.”

Laxus hoped that Freed had heard his words, that he knew that they weren’t leaving even as he knew his partner would still be pleading with them to go, but there was no time to do more than hope because the darkness was upon them. Laxus felt the chill of it against his skin, and dropped, slamming his fist into the ground and sending lightning sparking through the air around him, trusting Evergreen and Bickslow to get out of the way. There was a snarl and the wave of darkness dissipated, torn apart by the storm in its mist, but it was a short-lived victory because the Demon was there at once, and it was done playing. And there was no time to worry about the fact that it was Freed that they were fighting, that it was Freed who would bear the brunt of any damage they inflicted because the Demon wasn’t giving them that time.

Laxus lashed out, hating himself but not hesitating as lightning wreathed his fist. _I’m sorry Freed,_ he thought as for a moment it seemed as though the blow would land, but it was like trying to catch shadows, the Demon darting to the side, the air shimmering in its wake as glowing letters formed and Laxus was forced to lunge out of the way as his own attack was deflected back at him. That was a new trick, as was the sight of some of the lightning being pulled into the demonic script, turning them from purple to red. He barely had time to shout a warning, before crimson-black lightning lashed out, scorching the ground between him and the others as Bickslow yanked Evergreen to safety just before it could strike her. The land where it had struck now glowing, as though it had been turned to molten lava.

The change in the Demon’s power had been palpable earlier, and part of Laxus had known that was going to make this fight harder than it was, especially with the lingering effects from their exposure to the Barrier Particles, but he was unprepared for the sheer ferocity of the Demon this time. Whether it was because he had pushed too far, his promise to Freed too much of a threat for it to ignore. Although that itself was no different than always, because he always had, and always would promise to bring Freed back – or because of whatever the Demon had done to seal its control over Freed, it wasn’t holding back in the slightest. The ground was still glowing, when it lunged again, lips twisted in a snarl. Laxus’ breath caught both at the sight, and the terrifying realisation of how close they were to the petrified forms of their guildmates, and it must have shown in his expression because the Demon grinned as blades of shadow formed and were flung out towards them even as it bore down on him.

The blades never hit, because Evergreen was there, blasting the first few out of the air with her own attack, but she wasn’t able to stop them all, and the last one caught her shoulder as she flung herself between then blade and their friends, a physical, human barrier. Crying out as the blade cut deep, darkness seeping into the wound as blood began to trickle down her arm.

Laxus heard Bickslow shouting her name, and then the Demon was on him, and Laxus retreated, trying to draw it away from them and the statues. “Freed,” he called when he saw dark eyes shifting back towards the others. “Fight him.” He knew that usually Freed could hear him even when trapped inside, but he wasn’t sure that the Demon would allow that today, but while his heart twisted at the thought of Freed alone, his words weren’t for Freed at the moment, as rage twisted the Demon’s expression as it focused on him once more.

“He can’t fight me,” it snarled, as they traded blows, the Demon following, pressing the attack as Laxus fell back beneath the onslaught. It wasn’t as much of an act as he wanted it to be, because the Demon was relentless. He knew better than anyone how strong Freed was in his own right, and their sparring was more evenly matched than most people realised, and Freed’s mind was a trap all of its own, and Laxus had lost count of the number of defeats he had because he’d been lured in. That aspect was missing today, the Demon didn’t care about traps and cunning and cleverness, it wanted to hurt them, to destroy and break and kill, but it was also free of the restrictions that Freed put on himself, and that was dangerous.

Very dangerous he discovered, as clawed fingers wrapped around his throat, tight enough that the tips of the claws broke skin immediately and he swallowed thickly as he felt blood trickle across his skin as the Demon leaned in close. “Do you want to know why?” There was a trap in those words, Laxus could feel it as clearly as he felt the claws tighten when he didn’t answer quickly enough.

“Why?”

“Because he will die if he does,” the Demon whispered with such obvious relish, that Laxus didn’t wait to ask what it meant, to try and work out if it was a lie or not, as he took a deep breath waiting for the muffled rumbled of thunder overhead before he roared. There was no missing at this range, and he felt the Demon’s claws leave more bloody gashes as it was forced away with a pained screech that had him gritting his teeth, because regardless of anything else that was Freed’s voice that he was hearing. It was Freed’s body that was smoking and quivering with pain as the Demon sprang clear of the rest of the attack as the roar petered off.

Bickslow and Evergreen – pale and bloody, but still standing- were waiting for the Demon, trapping him between them as they unleashed, buying Laxus the time he needed to swipe a hand over his throat checking the damage wasn’t too severe. His mind was racing. He had learned the hard way how to decipher the meaning behind the Demon’s words, to see through its lies and games, and there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that perhaps this time it hadn’t been a lie. Bickslow went flying, his dolls scattering as shadows leapt towards them, shrieking in terror, only for Evergreen to blast the shadows away as she moved to cover the Skeith mage.

“STOP!” Laxus shouted, moving to join them, flanking the Demon from behind and Evergreen froze, her arms spread, ready to attack again, while Bickslow pulled himself back to his feet. Visibly winded and bruised from the attack, and no trace of his grin to be seen as he glanced at Laxus in question.

“Laxus...?”

“Yes, Laxus…” The Demon echoed mockingly, turning to look at him, darkness rising up behind him, letters glistening in its depths, a defence against any sneak attacks. “Is there something you want to ask?” It was enjoying this, still furious, still hungry for their destruction, but utterly at ease surrounded by them and Laxus didn’t like it. Didn’t like that the only way to get the answers he needed was to play right into its games, but the uneasy feeling was growing.

“What did you mean?”

“About?”

Laxus took a threatening step forward, and lightning struck the ground close to the Demon, a warning and a promise, and the Demon laughed, looking delighted at his reaction.

Then it disappeared, fading away to that shimmering, script that was so similar and yet so different from Freed’s runes.

Evergreen and Bickslow instantly moved back to back, the latter’s dolls whirling around them in a protective formation, quiet for once, while Laxus took a breath and sniffed the air. It had always been hard to track Freed when he teleported through his runes, and it was even worse now with his scent almost lost amongst the Demon’s. But Laxus could smell the Demon, it was all around them, it’s scent spread everywhere from their fighting, and only the fact that he knew it couldn’t resist lingering and making sure they were destroyed stopped him from worrying that it had fled and taken Freed with it.

There.

There was nothing to betray it’s presence, no ripple in the air, no shifting darkness, but Laxus’ nostrils flared as the scent grew stronger and he threw himself to the side, just in time to avoid the claws that dove towards his throat once more as the Demon rematerialised. He rolled as he hit the ground, hands moving, praying that he knew what he was doing as he surged back to his feet. “You will have to do better than that,” he said. Deliberately goading, as he started to circle the Demon. Waving the others back when they made as to join him, hearing the faint intake of breath as at least one of them realised what he was doing, as he gathered his magic, nimbly stepping out of the way as the Demon lunged again. “Still too slow,” he taunted, still moving. He wasn’t so lucky this time, as the Demon went for him at the same time as dark tendrils rose from the shadows at the Demon’s feet and shot towards him, tangling around his feet, and he stumbled, falling forward, landing on his knees and bracing himself on his hands. “And too late,” he added. Wiping the triumphant look off the Demon’s face as a split second before it could reach him, lightning crackled, flaring out from his hands still braced against the ground and around the rough circle he had etched into the ground, the few runes he knew flaring to life.

The Demon flinched back for a second, caught by surprise, and Laxus grinned, all sharp teeth and narrowed eyes, because he hadn’t been sure of Freed had managed to keep this weapon from the Demon. Wouldn’t have blamed him if he hadn’t, but it was clear that if nothing else the Demon hadn’t connected the dots, and that gave them a chance. It didn’t take the Demon long to rally though or to realise that the shadows that had been wrapped around Laxus had been ripped apart, leaving the Dragon-slayer free to rise to his feet, just as the Demon threw itself at the glistening cage with a howl. Ozone and the awful smell of burning hair filled the air, as the Demon was immediately flung back into the far wall, crying out before stumbling forward away from that wall too. It wouldn’t hold him long, the walls already flickering just from that impact, but it just had to last long enough.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Laxus said, stepping as close as he could, praying the lie didn’t show in his voice or expression, and trusting it hadn’t as he was met by a look of incandescent rage that promised his demise in the most painful way possible. He did not flinch and instead hardened his expression. “Now, tell me what you meant.”

He could tell that the Demon was weighing its options. The fight was not over, this was just a stalemate, and Laxus knew it was debating whether it would hurt them more if it remained silent. _Possibly,_ he thought, the uneasy feeling growing, and he had to fight not to fidget, carefully not looking at the others, sensing their confused looks.

“This body isn’t human anymore…” The Demon finally replied, managing to sound as reluctant as it was triumphant as it looked at Laxus, who had to fight tooth and nail not to let his expression crumple. “Those Barrier particles that Freed inhaled, unwillingly and then willingly for your sakes.” That hurt, a wound that hit its mark and Laxus couldn’t entirely stop himself jerking as though struck, and the Demon smirked, stepping forward until they were facing each other through the bars of the cage. “They paved the way for my freedom. Feeling his magic fading away, the restraints holding me down…it was intoxicating, but I know him, and I know you. Knew that you would come for him, regardless of what Tartaros believed, that you would try and find a way to drag him back to the surface.”

Laxus didn’t speak, because there was nothing he could say. His own words from earlier damned him at this point, and their very presence, bruised and battered, surrounded by what could be the very remains of their guild, signified that the Demon was right. “Tartaros…” He didn’t like the reverence, the belonging in that single word, or the way Freed’s hand rose to caress the mark on his shoulder, the mark that had no place being anywhere on Freed’s body. _If it’s even his body anymore,_ Laxus thought before he could stop himself, the uneasiness becoming dread as the Demon stared at him, far too knowing at that moment as its lips curled up in a smile. “Tartaros welcomed me despite the human in me…” The disgust in that single word hurt, and Laxus was uncomfortably reminded of how he had said ‘he’s not human’ when faced with Tempester, heart sinking in his chest. _I’m sorry, Freed._ “And they offered me a deal. A place with them, as the Tenth Gate, as myself… in return for two things. One that I helped them achieve their goals, and two that I let them drive the humanity from me.”

“But, Freed…” Bickslow finally spoke up, and the Demon’s eyes flickered towards him before it shrugged dismissively.

“He’s still here, for now…” The Demon paused, letting that sink, savouring their reactions, and Laxus knew that he wasn’t the only one who had tensed at those words, at the threat in them. “But, this body,” the Demon spread its arms wide, and turned, as though showing off to them. Letting them see the dark chains, that shifted and glided across pale skin, before focusing on Laxus once more. “This body isn’t his, they filled it to the brim with Demon particles, with the very essence of what makes me who I am. Freed’s humanity? It is but a memory to his body, there’s no magic left, nothing but that faint echo of him trapped inside here.” The Demon tapped its head, gleeful now. “And soon enough that will be gone too because without you to anchor him why would he fight? Especially for a body that would die around him if he managed to break free, poisoned against the very thing he used to keep me trapped for so long…”

“You’re lying,” Evergreen hissed, more desperate than anger and Laxus didn’t need to hear the Demon laugh, to see Bickslow paling as he removed his helmet to look at Freed with glowing eyes, to know that she was wrong even as he desperately wished she was right.

The Demon wasn’t lying, not this time.

****

Freed was reeling, caught between agony and anguish, forgetting all about fighting the darkness around him if he’d even been able to find the strength to struggle. His failure to push the other’s away had brought the Demon’s wrath down on him, even as it had lashed out against Laxus and the others, and the tremors of that attack, worse than it’s earlier punishments had left him teetering on the precipice. Only the knowledge that Laxus and the others were there had kept him holding on, clinging to consciousness with every iota of strength he’d had left.

He almost wished that he’d let himself fall.

He’d wanted to know what the Demon had done to him, what the chains on his skin had meant, but now he wished that he didn’t have the answers. _This body isn’t human anymore._ That had been a hammer blow, striking deep in his heart, and sending cracks throughout his entire being, because if his body wasn’t human anymore, and his mind was trapped, then what was he? Could he even claim to be Freed Justine anymore? And if he couldn’t, then who was he? What was he?

What were the others fighting for?

He was only vaguely aware of Evergreen protesting, of Bickslow looking at him, his friend’s magic a distant tingling that didn’t feel real, his attention riveted on Laxus. Laxus, who had always seen him as human even when his control had slipped, who’d always believed in him, even when Freed’s faith in himself had wavered. Laxus, who looked as though he was about to throw up, or crumple to his knees, and that more than the pain, more than the Demon’s words, and the looming realisation that he wasn’t sure who or what he was anymore, that broke him.

_Laxus, I’m sorry,_ he thought, closing his eyes.

Unable to bear the grief that was written across Laxus’ face right now, the despair in the blue eyes that were locked on him, as the Dragon-slayer realised the choice that lay in front of him. Keep his promise, free Freed and yet still lose him…or, let the Demon go, and lose Freed all the same because Freed didn’t doubt the Demon when he said that he wouldn’t linger long. Maybe it was his imagination, a terror fed by the realisation that not even his body was his any more, or perhaps it was just the inevitable, but it felt as though he was slipping with each second that passed.

_…I’m sorry._

****

Laxus felt as though he was drowning, his determination, his resolve to bring Freed back now turned into a weapon against him, one that had been used with deadly efficiency. He couldn’t look at Evergreen and Bickslow, and he didn’t need to see them to know that they were as shaken as he was, he could hear Evergreen’s strangled sobs that she was valiantly trying to hold back, and the low keening noise that the dolls made in place of Bickslow’s stunned silence.

_Freed…_

He couldn’t look away from the Demon, desperately searching for some sign that it was a lie, a trick, words meant to harm and nothing else, but he already knew he wouldn’t find it. There was one difference, though, just the faintest of shifts in Freed’s scent. Nothing that anyone else, maybe even the other Dragon-slayers would have been able to notice, but this was Freed, and Laxus was attuned to him in a way he had never been with anyone else. It was the sourness of terror, tinged with grief, and he could almost see Freed as he was in the aftermath of a loss of control, huddled in on himself, eyes a little too bright, and salt in the air. _Freed…_ There was a sour taste in his mouth, as he saw the Demon smirk, realising that this might well be the first that Freed had heard of this too, depending on how deep the Demon had kept him trapped. That Freed might have believed Laxus’ words, put his faith, his hope, in what the Dragon-slayer had promised him, only to have it ripped away from him in an instance.

“Freed….” He started, stepping forward before trailing off. He couldn’t ask the question that he wanted to say, because it would be turned against them, and he could practically feel the Demon leaning forward with interested although it hadn’t moved, and instead he closed his eyes. Taking what small pleasure, he could in its irritated huff.

_Freed, what are we supposed to do?_

It was harder than he cared to admit, to dredge up the image of Freed as he was supposed to be, untouched by the Demon, as though that version of his partner had already slipped beyond their reach. _Freed._ His hands curled into fists at his side, trembling slightly, as he realised that for the first time Freed wasn’t there to answer him, to balance him. They were barely six feet apart, separated by a crackling cage that he knew the Demon would break in moments once it put its mind to it, and yet there was a yawning gulf between them, a distance that he didn’t know how to close, and he took a shuddering breath.

_Freed…_

He didn’t need to ask the question he realised, eyes slowly opening, because he realised that he already knew the answer. That what had seemed to be an impossible choice, between stepping back and losing Freed to the Demon, or stepping up and bringing him back just to lose him anyway, was anything but because he knew Freed. Knew that his partner would choose to risk it all, to risk that the Demon was telling the truth just for a chance to be himself again, and he stared at the Demon, waiting until it tilted his head, uneasy at his gaze before he forced his lips up into a tight grin that he knew was more of a grimace. Just as he knew that Freed would understand what it meant, if he was even able to see him or make sense of what was going on and that prompted him to step forward, ignoring the worried warnings from the other two, eyes locked on the Demon.

“Freed, I am going to bring you back,” he said, amazed that he managed to keep his voice as even as he had because there was a storm in his chest as he tried to continue. “Even…” He couldn’t say the words, no matter how he tried to force them out, and he hoped that it was enough, because the Demon was laughing at his words. An awful mocking sound that seemed to echo around them, reverberating in the tense quiet around them, but the dark eyes that locked on Laxus were furious as it stepped forward, mirroring him. There was a terrible cracking sound, as its shadow burst outwards, rushing towards the walls of the cage.

The impact was blinding, and Laxus found himself being flung backwards and from the startled shouts on the other side, he knew that Evergreen and Bickslow had been brushed aside too, caught in the backlash. Pain exploded in the back of his head, as he landed, but he barely had time to do anything but grunt, because the Demon was on top of him. “He doesn’t believe your promises anymore,” it snarled, and Laxus couldn’t see anything anymore as the darkness rushed in, curling around him, blinding him, deafening him to anything but the Demon’s words. “He knows this over that you can’t save him.” Laxus wanted to deny the words, wanted to argue that Freed would never lose faith in them, but he was choking on the words, on the shadows seeping down his throat.

_Freed…_

There were claws around his throat again, tightening, choking, deepening the darkness around him, and belatedly Laxus realised that he needed to fight. That he had to fight for Freed’s sake if nothing else, lightning gathering around his hands, and even though he could feel it against his skin, it didn’t break the darkness it was too deep, and he was slipping. Falling, but somewhere up above, there was light. Not the sun. Not lightning. It was too bright, so radiant that the darkness had no defence against it, the shadows seeming to recoil through it, and Laxus had a fleeting glimpse of something large rushing towards them. Then the world was shaking, as something slammed into the creature beneath them, ripping through it, a bellow so deep that it almost blocked out everything else. Would have been were it not for his enhanced hearing that let him the whisper that brushed against his ear, a split second before the entire world started to fall.

“Let me go…”


	9. Chapter 9

Quiet, it was too quiet. That was Laxus’ first impression as he clawed his way back to consciousness, aware that every part of his body hurt. As he drew in a ragged breath, he felt the fire start in his throat, and with it came the memory of claws on his throat, tightening, choking him. They weren’t there now, which meant… _Freed._ Pushing through the pain, he bolted upright with a groan and came up short at the devastation that met his eyes, as he looked around. He was in a deep gouge that had been cut into the earth itself, and beyond him lay the ruined remains of the island, creature, whatever the hell they had been on, the rocky legs crumbled from the collision with the ground, leaving Laxus unable to see beyond the immediate devastation. More importantly, he couldn’t see the others, and there was a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach when he realised that Freed could have slipped through their fingers.

_What the hell happened?_ _And where the hell is Freed?_ He thought lifting a hand to his head which was throbbing in time with each painful breath, grimacing when his fingers came away with blood. He remembered the radiant light, and something slamming into the ground and then falling, but nothing afterwards, although that probably had something to with his headache. Although looking around at the destruction, he wasn’t sure that it was a bad thing that he didn’t remember the landing.

“What the hell happened?” A loud voice demanded, echoing his thoughts and exacerbating his pounding head, and he tilted his head to see Evergreen extracting herself from a pile of rubble, rumpled and filthy, one lens of her glasses cracked beyond recognition.

“Ever,” he called, wincing slightly but pushing through as he staggered to his feet. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, where is…?”

The Demon burst out of the rubble behind her, Evergreen crying out as shadowy claws raked her shoulder as she was a second too slow to dodge out of the way, and then Freed was on her, his face twisted in a snarl as the darkness around him deepened. Laxus was moving, lightning gathering around his hands, but it wasn’t going to be enough. He was too far, and the Demon wasn’t playing around. Evergreen whirled, narrowly avoiding a second swipe, her hands moving frantically as the gold glittered in the air between them. “I’m sorry, Freed,” she whispered, so softly that Laxus almost missed it and then explosions ripped through the air between them as she sprang back. Stumbling as her foot caught on a rock and landing on her bum, eyes locked on where the dust and smoke were beginning to clear, to reveal the Demon nearly untouched and grinning. Eyes alight as it met her gaze and lunged once more.

“Ever!” Laxus roared.

Green light slammed into the Demon, knocking it off balance mid-leap, Bickslow’s dolls hollering shrill war cries as they collided with the Demon over and over, pushing him back and away from Evergreen. Laxus spared a glance for the Skeith Mage who had appeared on top of the rubble above them, before focusing on Ever who was seizing the chance to scramble to her feet and put a little more distance between herself and the Demon just as demonic script wrapped itself around three of the dolls, flaring brightly. When the light had cleared, there was nothing but ash left, and Laxus heard Bickslow’s pained noise at the loss. So the Demon, dark eyes flicking up to Bickslow, as its grin grew and Laxus stepped forward, unleashing his lightning in all its force on Freed and murmuring his own apology as he did so.

Runes shimmered to life, deflecting the worst of the lightning and Laxus felt a thrill of alarm as the Demon brushed aside the rest of the attack as though it was nothing. It barely looked at him, still focused on Bickslow and as its muscles tensed, preparing to attack he stepped forward.

“FREED!” Dark eyes met his, and the Demon smirked, before lunging towards Bickslow. Laxus was prepared, having moved a split second faster, using his magic to propel him forward, and he collided with the Demon mid-air and ignoring the claws that found purchase in his skin, he wrapped his arms around him. It was nothing like holding Freed who despite his protests to the contrary when they were around others, liked being held close, and would always melt into Laxus’ grip when he held him like this. Not today. Today it was like trying to hold onto a wildcat, one that hissed and snarled and clawed, even as darkness wrapped itself around both, cutting him off from the other two and the rest of the world. 

They hit the ground hard, and Laxus had to swallow back the urge to vomit as his head swam from the impact, refusing to loosen his grip even as they rolled across the ground. He was bleeding profusely by now, as the Demon realising that he wasn’t going to let go without a fight turned it’s attention to inflicting as much damage as possible. “You’re not going to get him back,” it growled in his ear during a brief lull in the tussling, both of them breathing heavily by that point, and Laxus could hear the triumph and amusement in its voice, and his own temper boiled over. _Freed, hold on,_ he thought as he let lightning crackle around his entire body, dozens upon dozens of tiny bolts lashing against the Demon.

This time he was rewarded by a pained noise from the Demon, and he bared his teeth at it. “Yes, I am.” _I just don’t know how long for,_ he thought but didn’t say, but knew that he didn’t need to because the brief flicker of frustration that had greeted his words twisted into a smirk as they rolled to a halt still caught in the middle of Laxus’ storm, the Demon on top of him. So close, that he could see every detail of Freed’s face illuminated by his magic, so familiar and yet so changed, and he ached to reach out and touch him, to comfort Freed, to promise him again and again that they would get him back until it became a reality. But it wasn’t Freed who was looking back at him, but the Demon, its amusement giving away to the rage of earlier and then it was leaning in, and Laxus felt the claws biting more deeply into his arms now.

“Not, if he kills you first…” Laxus stiffened at the distinction, knowing that it was more than a taunt, that Freed would see it that way. But he had no time to argue or to even attempt to find the words to tell Freed that no matter what happened it wasn’t his fault because the storm had changed and too late he realised that he was no longer in control as the world around him turned red. Strings of the corrupted runes running through the centre of the lightning as it now changed course and lashed against him, a vivid, unnatural crimson and Laxus wasn’t aware of letting go of Freed, as he jolted and twisted under the force of the corrupted storm. His back arching off the ground, as something deep inside his body resonated with the magic, pulling and tugging until it felt as though he would come apart inside and out.

_Freed, please…_

****

_Let me go…_

It had taken everything Freed had and hadn’t known he had left, to force those words out past the Demon’s control. His terror at the feel of Laxus’ throat convulsing beneath his grip, at feeling his partner’s struggles beginning to fade, giving him a desperate strength to push through the cage walls. It had hurt, more than he had ever thought possible, the Demon and his own body fighting against him at that moment, and if he’d had any doubt about the Demon’s claims about his body, they were gone now, because the moment he had touched it, everything had recoiled. For a moment, all he could feel and smell were death and decay. But he’d managed to speak, to plead with Laxus one last time.

It hadn’t been enough.

His control hadn’t even lasted a second, and the Demon had been incandescent with rage at his defiance, and the retaliation as they’d fallen had pushed Freed to the very edge, and he was slipping. Barely aware of anything, as they’d landed on the ground, Tartaros’ base collapsing around then, and unable to do anything but watch as the Demon stalked the others, quickly locating them amongst the rubble. Not even the spark of terror that had shot through him when they’d found Laxus, sprawled unconscious in the crater left by the crash had been enough to rouse him. Part of him wondered if that was what had saved the Dragon-slayer, because the Demon for all that it wanted to be free of any anchor Freed might have to his life, to his humanity, wanted an audience. There was no pleasure to be derived while Laxus was unconscious and Freed…

…Freed was fading.

The world was coming to him in a dizzying flickering display of shapes of colours, muted and distorted, as though he was a million miles away. Perhaps he was, he wasn’t sure anymore. He could still feel his body moving, and the Demon’s mingled glee and fury as it attacked Laxus and the others, his cheeks damp with tears that he didn’t even have the energy to let fall anymore as he heard Evergreen cry out in pain…or was that fear... he wasn’t sure, because one moment she was there, and the next he was looking up at Bickslow, and his heart twisted in his chest as he saw the pain in his friend’s face. _What happened? What did I do?_ Even as his fear and guilt spiked, the world remained as out of focus as ever, and he must have lost track again, or maybe he had already been lagging, because the next thing he was aware of was darkness pressing in on them from all sides and Laxus’ arms wrapped around them.

_Laxus…_

He would have recognised the Dragon-slayer’s touch anywhere. And even as lightning lashed against him, sending pain radiating through his body, the Demon directing it to him with malicious delight, he could tell that Laxus was still fighting for him. He was holding onto him, not letting him escape…not letting him go after the others…but not letting him go.

_Laxus, please…_

They were so close, and yet he couldn’t hear the Dragon-slayer, couldn’t make out the expression on his face, the emotions in his eyes – and he had always loved Laxus’ eyes because they betrayed far more of what his partner was thinking and feeling than the other man would ever say in words. _Laxus…_ All he had was the arms around him, the grip bordering on bruising, even though he knew that his own – or rather the Demon’s- was worse, could feel skin break beneath his claws. But Laxus’…Laxus’ still held a lingering gentleness, and Freed wanted to scream then because he knew that some part of the Dragon-slayer still believed that there was a way back from this, that he could still save him.

_Laxus, you can’t…_

He needed to stop this because the Demon was angry again, its rage focused on Laxus and Freed realised that he could feel the storm around them shifting, changing, morphing into something dark and dangerous and corrupted. _No._ He might as well have been stood out under a natural storm, pleading with Laxus to hear his voice over the distance when the Dragon-slayer had been exiled for all the response he got. Now he could feel Laxus writhing beneath him, his grip disappearing and then Laxus’ grip disappeared, and he heard him crying out as he arched beneath him.

_Laxus!_

Freed was drained, defeated, there was no way he could force out a single word this time, let alone hope to seize control even for a second.

But there was one thing he could do…

Willing everything he had left, the pathetic remnants of what he had been, his hope that Laxus and the others would come for him, his fear, his love for the man beneath him, he brought the work into painful clarity for a second. Laxus’ face was twisted with pain, but there was still a determined set to his jaw and Freed could feel the Dragon-slayer starting to gather his magic again, pushing back against the storm. Still fighting for him, and Freed drank in the sight of him, wishing that Laxus could know that he was there, that for a second at least he was aware and looking back at him.

That he could say goodbye properly, and not a whisper in the prison of his own mind.

_I’m sorry Laxus, this is the only thing I have left…_

_… you don’t have to fight for me anymore…_

_…I love you._

And Freed let himself fall over the edge; into the oblivion that the Demon had been pushing him towards from the very beginning.


	10. Chapter 10

_Freed was drifting again, but it was different this time. There was no Demon, no pain, no threads drawing him back. A small part of him trembled at that, knowing what he had done, what he had lost…_

_What he had sacrificed._

_But there was peace too, the kind that settled over him like a blanket, draining away the fear, the memories, the weight of loss, until he was floating away on the feeling, awareness fading, memories dimming._

_I’m sorry..._

**

The hospital room was silent, a sharp contrast with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the hospital. It had been quiet from the beginning, but not like this. Not this stillness, as though the whole world was holding its breath and waiting for something to happen.

Freed lay still and silent in the hospital bed, almost the same colour as the sheets covering him after his appearance had gradually returned to normal. Now he looked half-dead under the lights, and in the shimmering gold of the defensive runes that had been erected around the bed. Protection against him, and the Demon still fighting to maintain control of his magic and body. For the moment, two of the chairs that had been pushed up against that shimmering wall were empty, but Laxus was there. His seat defiantly pushed up inside the barrier so that he was pressed up against the bed, leaning against the side of it, Freed’s hand clasped between both of his. The healers had protested, even Porlyusica had sounded a word of caution about what could happen if it wasn’t Freed who woke up the next time, but Laxus had ignored them all. Bickslow and Evergreen had known better than to try and argue with him, and instead had just made him promise to keep a distance if they weren’t there to watch his back.

A promise he was breaking right now, as he had sent them both off to rest and eat – which they had finally agreed to under protest. A small part of him felt guilty for breaking his word, especially as he knew that Freed would be on their side, but he needed the contact, needed the small reassurance that Freed’s hands were still warm to the touch. Not warm enough, a chill lingering, but enough to tell him that his partner was still there, or at least still alive. Because, no one knew if Freed was still there – not the hospital staff, not Porlyusica who had marched in and claimed Freed as her patient and shoved the doctors out, not the Raijinshuu and not even Laxus. Because the Rune Mage had given them no sign that he lingered, let alone that he was going to come back to himself.

Oh, he had woken. Three days after they’d woken in the hospital, but it hadn’t been Freed who’d snapped his eyes open, dark magic lashing out almost before he’d made it upright. The Demon snarling and furious at finding itself contained within the runes and surrounded by people waiting for Freed to come back. Growing almost incandescent with rage when it had realised that the barrier particles that had allowed it to claim so much control was disappearing, fading beneath Porlyusica’s aggressive treatment after Gajeel had brought them a precious sample from Tempester. The runes had held it at bay, although the three of them had been there braced for another fight, and Freed’s body had given out before it could do more than lunge at the barrier, making it crackle against him.

Freed hadn’t stirred since then, as the days crept by becoming one week and now two, Laxus could feel his hope waning, even as he curled his fingers a little tighter around Freed’s, as though that would be enough to keep him anchored in the world.

_Freed…_

He wanted to talk to him, to repeat the promises he had made, to make new ones – that he wasn’t going anywhere until Freed woke up and came back to them. But the words would not come, trapped behind a lump that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his throat. It had been Bickslow and Ever who had done most of the talking, especially in the first few days, where they had talked themselves hoarse as they’d sat around Freed’s bedside, trying to call him back to them. They’d said it all reassurances, encouragements and even threats. They’d talked about the future – avoiding what had happened and was happening with the guild – and instead focusing on jobs they could take, places they could visit, anything and everything that was as far awake from what had happened as possible. More than once they’d looked at him askance, his silence disturbing them as much as Freed’s stillness, and he couldn’t find the words to explain that he had nothing to say, that some part of him had died the moment he’d felt Freed disappear.

_“Not, if he kills you first…” Laxus stiffened at the distinction, knowing that it was more than a taunt, that Freed would see it that way. But he had no time to argue or to even attempt to find the words to tell Freed that no matter what happened it wasn’t his fault because the storm had changed and too late he realised that he was no longer in control as the world around him turned red. Strings of the corrupted runes running through the centre of the lightning as it now changed course and lashed against him, a vivid, unnatural crimson and Laxus wasn’t aware of letting go of Freed, as he jolted and twisted under the force of the corrupted storm. His back arching off the ground, as something deep inside his body resonated with the magic, pulling and tugging until it felt as though he would come apart inside and out._

_Freed, please…_

_The pain was unlike anything Laxus had ever experienced before, and darkness was gathering at the edges of his vision as he writhed in the storm that was no longer his. He had no idea where the others were, or what was happening beyond the pain and the wait of the Demon on top of him._

_Then something shifted._

_He wasn’t sure what it was, because the attack hadn’t let up, the pain was spreading and intensifying, his breath catching in his chest as it burned through his chest and out into every inch of his body. But something had changed. With difficulty, he had managed to focus on the twisting, snarling face above him, trying not to break a little more at seeing Freed’s face pulled into that expression. It was the Demon, not Freed, he reminded himself and then released a breath that came out as a whine, because that wasn’t strictly true because the snarl wasn’t Freed, but the eyes – still dark, were painfully human at that moment. A hint of Freed managing to peek through, and for a second Laxus forgot about the pain and the corrupted storm that was lashing around him, because the emotion in that glimpse terrified him. There was love and recognition, proof that they hadn’t been fighting for nothing, that some part of Freed endured and knew that they were there, but there was no reassurance in that because intermingled with those emotions was a look of defeat that took his breath away. Because it wasn’t just a look of surrender, it ran deeper than that, and it took him another moment to realise what he was saying._

_To realise that Freed was saying farewell._

_“Freed!” Laxus gritted his teeth, jaw locked as he rallied against the pain. He wasn’t going to lose Freed, not like this, not without fighting until the very end. Do you hear that Freed? I’m not going to lose you like this. I can still fight, I can… His magic stirred, his resolve whipping it into a frenzy as he pushed back against the corrupted storm, seeking to regain control of it, to twist the lightning back under his control._

_It was too late._

_The dark eyes flooded with rage again, but this time it wasn’t just the Demon re-establishing control, because Laxus felt it as clearly as though someone had just driven a knife into his heart. Freed was gone. He couldn’t explain how he knew it, but the cold fist of certainty wrapped itself around him, chilling him to the bone as he stared into the Demon’s eyes, a howl rising in his chest._

_“FREED!”_

That cold remained, Freed’s hand between his a single pinprick of heat in a world that seemed diminished, drained of colour, of warmth, of life. _Freed,_ Laxus squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his partner’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. _Please._ He lingered like that for several minutes, and then slowly opened his eyes, studying Freed again, gaze lingering on the still-healing damage from their fight, marking each cut and bruise, the bandages that still hid the worst damage from sight. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Freed like this or the first time they’d been the cause of his injuries, but it had never sat well with him and this time was a thousand times worse because they’d had to go all out, and had nearly gone too far.

It had been too close.

It was still too close, and while he knew that wasn’t just because of their actions, it hurt. As did the broken promises lying in the silence between them, jagged, broken words that he couldn’t repair until Freed came back to him.

If he could come back.

**

_Why was he still aware?_

_Freed had never really given much thought to what lay after because that had been too much like admitting defeat. But he had admitted defeat…hadn’t he? He thought that he had, could vaguely remember standing on the edge of a precipice and toppling over, or was that a dream? He didn’t know, nothing really made sense in this empty space where he was drifting. It was empty, and yet it wasn’t nothingness like he might have expected and his mind still worked, even if the thoughts were hazy and unfocused, dulled quicksilver flitting around him and gone before he could grasp him._

_Am I still alive…?_

**

Laxus stirred as there was a noise at the door, making no effort to scoot his chair back or release Freed’s hand, pretence beyond him at this point. It was Bickslow and Evergreen, both looking worse than before despite their break, and he wondered if they’d managed to sleep at all, knew that he should ask and scold. Knew that Freed would want him to do it in his stead, but he couldn’t, merely managing a nod when they entered. Ignoring the way their eyes darted between him and the still figure on the bed, Ever’s mouth opening as though to scold him before she seemed to think better of it and her mouth snapped shut.

“Has there been any change?” It was Bickslow who broke the strained silence, his voice barely audible in the quiet as he looked at Freed, and Laxus couldn’t help but notice that there was none of the hope that lingered in that question the first week, and wished that he could do more than mutely shake his head. Their shoulders fell, expressions threatened to crumple, and Laxus looked away, ashamed. He couldn’t deal with his own grief and fear, let alone theirs, and his grip tightened on Freed’s hand. It was Freed who had always known how to deal with that, ever the Captain regardless of his own emotions, a steady presence at their backs, and he knew he wasn’t the only adrift at the moment, and that realisation had him gathering himself.

“No…” He didn’t recognise his own voice, and from the look the pair shared, he sounded as awful to them as he did to his own ears, and he faltered. “Porlysuica stopped by earlier, and said that the barrier particles are all but gone from his body, but…” The healer had been pleased about the results of those latest tests, but she didn’t have any answers from them. Freed’s injuries were healing, but he wasn’t rousing, and she didn’t know if just removing the particles would be enough to make the Demon subside or whether whatever Tartaros had done to him meant that it really was too little, too late like the Demon had claimed. Mira had told them what she could – which had only added to Laxus’ guilt and nightmares, his imagination only too happy to twist images of what had happened to Freed in that lab, but while there were similarities between her magic and Freed’s there was also differences, and they had no idea just how that would play out

There were far too many questions and not enough answers.

“That’s a good sign…” Evergreen tried, but it was clear that her heart wasn’t in it and she subsided and Laxus couldn’t find reassurance for her.

_Freed… are you still fighting?_

He turned his gaze back to Freed, studying him, lingering on the blankness. He couldn’t feel him, even now as he cradled his hand and leaned into the side of the bed, it felt as though his partner was gone, the void that had opened up during the fight refusing to close.

_Laxus’ howl twisted into a bellow or rage of loss, and his magic flared, lightning crackling around him and the Demon laughed. Cackling triumphantly above him, snarl replaced by a malicious grin. “He’s gone,” it hadn’t bothered to lower its voice, and now Laxus could hear Bickslow and Evergreen nearby, demanding answers, shouting protests, but his attention was riveted on the Demon as its gaze met his. “He was thinking of you, you know,” it all but crooned, and Laxus couldn’t stop himself from flinching at the words and the dark delight behind them. Freed, what have you done? “You don’t have to fight for me anymore,” the Demon leaned in close, the storm easing a little as it toyed with him, the words hurting worse than the attack had. “That’s what he was thinking.”_

_“I’m not going to stop fighting,” Laxus snarled, and now he did lash out, channelling the hurt, the fear, the sinking feeling that it was too late. That Freed had slipped through his fingers. Golden lightning clashed with Crimson, stained…and then the Demon was off him, and Laxus was surging to his feet, teeth bared in a snarl, storm clouds building overhead._

_“It’s too late,” the Demon was unfazed, wiping blood away from its mouth and grinning at him. “You took too long, and he gave up.” It spun, runes spreading out around it, corrupt and glistening in the air, and then it looked at him. “This body is mine now, and you have nothing to fight for anymore.” It lashed out, going for Bickslow and Evergreen this time who cried out as the attack slammed into them, forcing them back, and Laxus lunged, charging forwards._

_“Then why are you still trying to stop us?” He demanded as he reached it, slamming a trembling fist into the Demon’s face, forcing it back, breaking the attack on the others and feeling them rallying behind them. He knew that he was clutching at straws, his heart quivering at the knowledge of it. Freed… But it was all he had, the fading, desperate hope that the Demon’s determination to keep fighting them, to destroy them, meant that there was still something they could do._

_There had to be something he could do._

_“Because I want to see your faces when he kills you,” the Demon hissed, reeling under the attack and lashing out in retaliation, clawed fingers leaving slices across the Dragon-slayer’s face. “I want to see the moment you realise you failed him, that he’s dead and gone because of you.”_

_He’s not dead,_ Laxus reminded himself, dragging himself out of the memory, eyes darting to where Freed’s chest rose and fell, too slow but steady at least. Lingering. Drifting. Caught between life and death, or maybe something worse, because Freed had given up, had thrown himself over the edge the Demon had pushed him too, and Laxus didn’t know what lay beyond that.

_Freed, why did you…?_

Freed had always believed in them, believed in Laxus, more than he had believed in himself, especially where the Demon was concerned, so why couldn’t he have held on a little longer? _No,_ Laxus couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him for that, because this time had been different. Tartaros had made it different, had stacked the odds against them, against Freed, because he hadn’t just been fighting the Demon he was used to, he had been fighting something more, just as they had, and none of them had been prepared.

“Freed…” He hadn’t meant to speak, voice hoarse as he leaned in. “We’re here.” He’d said that during the fight, had listened to Bickslow and Evergreen saying it over and over since then, but he needed to say it here. Needed Freed to know that no matter how much else had changed, that hadn’t changed, that it wouldn’t change.

There was no reaction.

Freed remained still, drifting between worlds, and Laxus’ shoulders slumped, and he bowed his head, trying to hide the tears that he could feel building in the corners of his eyes.

_Freed…_

**

_Here… We’re here…._

_Freed’s drifting was interrupted as words echoed through the quiet. He couldn’t place the voice, even though he felt as though he knew it, something twisting and tugging in his chest. Who? He didn’t understand the words either, because he was alone in this place, even the Demon had disappeared…_

_The Demon…_

_He frowned, and for a moment he caught a fleeting glimpse of blue, blue eyes and lightning against a stormy cloud and then it was gone, and he was drifting again, but the words lingered._

_We’re here…_

_Who is ‘we’?_

_And where is ‘here’?_

_**_

Laxus had finally taken a break, exhausted beyond belief, broken in ways that he had never imagined possible. Something else breaking when he had left the room, trying to ignore the small voice in the back of his mind that had whispered that this was the first step to admitting defeat. _I won’t give up on him,_ he’d thought, furious and fighting the urge to dash back into the room, hating how weak and uncertain it had sounded even in the safety of his own thoughts and instead he’d all but fled the hospital. He knew that Evergreen and Bickslow wouldn’t shift until he returned, knew that one of them would come to find him if anything changed. Still, it didn’t make it any easier to leave the building, and the moment he hit the street, he’d burst into a run, needing the distance, knowing that he would turn back if he didn’t.

The evidence of the fighting was written across the city, and Laxus tried to block it out as he moved past, blind to the curious looks he was attracting, the startled cries as he blew past others. He didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want to think about any of it.

His feet and heart betrayed him though, carrying him to where the guild had stood, the sight of the crushed remains of their home another hammer blow on another fragile heart. Work was already underway to clear away the rubble, and he paused for a few minutes, watching the people work, fighting the urge to stop them. It was a moot point, the guild building was gone, and the guild gone with it. Not that he’d let himself think about that, because it was too much on top of everything else, but now stood before the remains of their home it was impossible not to think about it. To ignore the fact that this place where he had finally started to build up good memories with Freed and the others was gone, that this home of theirs was gone. That Freed was utterly unaware of what had happened that the place that had come to mean so much more to his partner after the Battle of Fairy Tail fiasco was gone.

“Laxus!” The sudden shout made him flinch, and his fists had bunched defensively, magic gathering as he turned towards the sound, startled to find Mira hurrying towards him. Part of him wanted to flee, to be alone with his turbulent thoughts and feelings, especially as he couldn’t look at her without remembering what she’d told them about Tartaros’ lab, but he couldn’t move. “Is everything all right? Is Freed…?” She had reached him now, studying him with a worried frown, fear in her eyes.

“He’s the same…” _He’s not there,_ Laxus thought but didn’t say. Mira’s expression twisted, relief as though she had expected bad news, but then dismay at the news. Laxus looked away, he couldn’t do much for Bickslow and Evergreen, and if he couldn’t help his own teammates, he couldn’t help others, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when she pressed a hand to his arm. “How are you doing?” She wasn’t the first person to ask, although the others had gradually stopped when it had become apparent he wasn’t going to answer them, but right now, raw and fragile, the distance between him and the hospital tugging at his heart, something splintered.

“…I promised him that we were going to bring him back.” He hadn’t meant to speak, let alone say that, the words creeping out hoarse and broken, almost lost to the sound of building work and chattering voices, but Mira’s hand shifted to grip his arm telling him that she had heard.

“You brought him home,” she said softly, and Laxus shook his head.

“No, we didn’t…” He denied, and they hadn’t. They weren’t the ones who had brought Freed out of the rubble when the fighting had ended, it had been the guild that had found them. It had been Elfman, who had lifted Freed and carried him into town, Laxus following in his wake, leaning heavily on Gajeel’s shoulder. “We didn’t do anything…”

“You fought for him,” Mira countered, releasing him and moving to stand in front of him, forcing him to meet her gaze, sad but fierce at once. “That isn’t nothing.” He opened his mouth to protest, a storm building in his chest and she cut him off again. “This fight took something from all of us,” there was a shadow in her eyes, and he knew it wasn’t just the guild building that she saw when she looked towards the ruined building. “I can’t deny that, and we all made and broke promises, we all almost lost…if it hadn’t been for the Dragons and the other guilds helping us…” She trailed off, unable to finish and Laxus couldn’t blame her.

_There had been Dragons in the sky above them. Dragons. Laxus had barely had any chance to appreciate the view, to wonder what was happening with the rest of the guild because the Demon had been on them, determined to end the fight and they were losing ground. Unable to forget that this was still Freed, even though there was no sign of their friend, and even with the gnawing, hollow feeling that was consuming Laxus from within._

_He reeled back as the Demon struck, shouting out in pain and feeling a hot rush of blood on his side, as clawed fingers rent skin as crackling magic lashed against him, and then he was falling. He managed to catch himself on his knees, just, but he wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to get back on his feet, wasn’t even sure that he wanted too as the Demon prowled towards him. His will to fight, to keep fighting, flickering like candlelight in the breeze. Because there was no trace of Freed in the eyes locked on him as the Demon drew closer, and he still couldn’t get any sense that Freed was there, that even a tiny part of him remained and defeat weighed as heavily as exhaustion on his shoulder._

_No, there was something else he realised as he swayed, struggling to stay on his knees. He was exhausted, his injuries burning, his magic pushed to the limit, but he shouldn’t feel like this, weakness creeping through his limbs, lightning crackling, failing…fading. Lifting his head, he saw that Evergreen was on the ground off to his left, still conscious but only just and Bickslow was staggering, his dolls lifeless on the ground around him as their magic flickered, wavered and vanished. Laxus took a ragged breath as he felt his own magic splutter out. What was going on? He was at his limit, but for it to disappear like that?_

_Laughter drew his attention back to the Demon who had paused, head tilted skywards. “They’ve done it,” it breathed sounding almost giddy with triumph, and Laxus felt ice in his stomach. It had been waiting for this moment. Dark eyes snapped towards him, and Laxus saw his death in the smirk before it lunged again. “You’re mine now.”_

_*_

_Laxus was on his back, the dark sky stretching out above him, vision growing hazy around the edges once more, and his body alight. The Demon was relentless, determined to end this now, and Laxus had nothing left – no magic, no strength and little will to keep fighting, because Freed was gone, the hollow feeling so big now that he wasn’t sure where it ended, and he began. Evergreen was unconscious or worse, he could only just see her if he tilted his head to the side, her body partially buried by rubble after the Demon had blasted her to one side and he couldn’t see or hear Bickslow from where he was._

_He could see the Demon._

_It was moving towards him, deliberately slow, savouring its victory and as he met dark eyes, the Demon licked its lips. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?” It demanded when it reached him, and Laxus blinked at it, before looking away. He didn’t have a reply, because that would mean admitting that this was over, that they had lost._

_That he had lost Freed._

_“Look at me.” A sharp kick to the side, had him grunting and curling in on himself, and despite himself, he looked, because it was still Freed’s face no matter how twisted it was, and he would have that be the last thing he saw._

_“Freed…” He whispered and saw the Demon’s face darken and cloud with fury as it opened its mouth to taunt him or snarl at him, he wasn’t sure. He never found out, because there was a movement in the sky above them, the shadow of a Dragon flashing past, a cloud moving against the wind. Then there was a roar that seemed to shake the very air, and Laxus had a fleeting impression of wings and other massive forms hurtling past followed by a muffled explosion in the distance._

_There was a pause, the Demon momentarily distracted, and Laxus caught a flicker of something – not quite fear, in the dark eyes, and then he felt it, a little trickle of strength creeping back into him. Sparks dancing around his fingertips as he curled his hands into fists, as there was more roars and shouts and cheers in the distance. He almost joined them because the sparks became a current, and the magic that had ebbed away was returning, first a trickle and then a stream, a finally a flood that threatened to take his breath away. Defeat still pressed in on him, but not as heavy, a flicker of hope rising in his chest, and he clenched his fists, letting the lightning build and the Demon must have sensed it because it’s attention shot back to him just as he moved, slamming his fist into the Demon’s jaw. “I’m not losing Freed to you,” he whispered as he rose unsteadily to his feet, his voice as wavering as his body as he gathered the last of his strength, knowing that this might be his only chance._

_I might have lost him, but I won’t let you have him…_

If the Dragons had come any later, if Face had been destroyed any later then, it would have all been over. It might still have been too late, but they had given them a chance, even if Laxus and the others had only learned the details of what had happened afterwards. And they’d still lost so much… and could still lose more. “We might still lose…”

“Do you really believe that?” Mira demanded, more forcefully than he’d expected and he blinked at her. “I don’t know everything that happened, or what they did to him, but I know Freed…” Laxus couldn’t argue with that, she and Freed had become good friends even if the Raijinshuu weren’t often around, bonding over their magic and the promise that had been made after their fight, attending that first Harvest festival together after the Battle of Fairy Tail, and yet he still opened his mouth to protest. Trying to find the words that would explain that moment he’d felt Freed saying goodbye and admitting defeat, the void in his chest that remained. The certainty that Freed was drifting… that he might not come back, even if they had proven the Demon wrong and driven the barrier particles from his partner’s body. “He won’t give in without a fight, and he won’t leave you behind. You just need to give him time.”

“He gave up Mira, I felt it,” Laxus forced out.

“Yet, he’s still here, still alive and fighting,” Mira pointed out, and Laxus stiffened. He wasn’t sure that he agreed, because if Freed was fighting then wouldn’t he feel it? Wouldn’t he know? _But he’s still here, he could have slipped away, especially with the Demon’s power weakened…_

But…

_Laxus had forced himself to stop seeing Freed, to focus on the dark eyes that bore no resemblance to the turquoise he knew and loved, to focus on the snarl rather than the small smile that always warmed his heart. To see and hear the Demon, and not the haunting traces of his partner. He had to end this. Movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him for a moment, letting the Demon land several more blows as it met his charge. Still, he gave an imperceptible nod as he saw Evergreen staggering to her feet, her teeth gritted and eyes locked on Freed, while on the other side, the dolls were airborne once more and he saw a flash of purple as Bickslow staggered into view. He took the Demon’s hits and staggered back to give himself some room, pretending that it had hit harder than it had – although it wasn’t as much pretence as he wanted, waiting for a brief gap in the flurry of attacks._

_“NOW!” He bellowed, not waiting for acknowledgement, trusting Evergreen and Bickslow to move at his shout as he charged, lightning lashing the Demon as he collided with it, just as bursts of green and gold hit it from either side, staggering it. Laxus refused to think that this was Freed, as he punched the Demon, once, twice and a third time, before spinning, leg lashing out and knocking it to the ground, lightning gathering around his fists. I’m sorry Freed, was all he allowed himself to think as he linked his hands together and poured every shred of magic that he had left into them. I’m sorry, the Demon was snarling and lashing out, runes flaring and pain flashed up Laxus’ legs, but he didn’t falter as he brought his hands down on it, lightning slamming through him and into the Demon as the ground around them crumbled and split apart._

_When the lightning faded they were in the middle of a crater, the Demon sprawled at his feet, unmoving, dark eyes barely open and fixed on him with such malevolence that Laxus flinched despite himself. But, it made no effort to rise, let alone attack, and he released a shuddering breath. Looking up as Evergreen and Bickslow appeared at the edge of the crater, barely standing and wary as they looked to the Demon as it started to laugh, a weak, thready sound and Laxus’ attention snapped back to it._

_“This changes nothing,” the Demon’s voice was fading, trailing away into nothingness, but it was still smirking and triumphant even in defeat. “This body will still be mine unless you kill him…”_

“It knew just what to say to you,” Mira murmured, and Laxus released he had been speaking aloud. “They always do.” She had released him now and was running her hands down her arms and shivering slightly, a reminder that she had a similar experience and Laxus’ breath caught. The hope that he had been fighting against flickered again, brighter this time as she collected herself and offered him a strained smile. “What does your heart tell you?”

The old Laxus would have scoffed at that, but he had felt Freed giving up and slipping away, could still feel his absence as keenly as a knife blade in his chest. But, was that all he felt? He had been caught up on the memories. On the feeling in his chest and the terror that had gnawed at him with every day that passed without Freed coming back to him, but was that all there was? He looked away from her, although he couldn’t escape the weight of her gaze as he looked up at the sky.

_Freed… are you still fighting? Am I the one that stopped fighting? That stopped believing?_

“I don’t know…” He said eventually, and he heard her sigh and shook his head. “I want to believe.” Gods, did he want to believe that Freed was fighting, that he could come back from this because he wasn’t sure that he could survive the alternative. But he couldn’t forget what had happened, what the Demon had said… “But, I’m not going to give up until he does.” _Until he died,_ he almost said, but even saying them aloud would be far too real and he wasn’t strong enough for that.

“Then, go and tell him that and keep telling him that,” Mira told him, and this time he realised her smile while still strained reached her eyes as she made shooing gestures. “Make sure he has a reason to keep fighting, and he will.”

**

_Freed had always enjoyed puzzles, the more complex the better, but it had taken him far too long to place the voice echoing in this place with him, and then to piece together the memories around it._

_Laxus…_

_Evergreen…_

_Bickslow…_

_With the memories, the peaceful feeling had dissipated, and terror and guilt flooded him. What had happened after he’d given up? Had they fled? Had they fought?_

_Were they safe?_

_But, Laxus… he had heard Laxus promising that he was there. But was that a memory? Or was that now? He didn’t know, and that scared him more than anything, and he was no longer drifting, but reaching out, searching for a way out, needing an answer even as much as he dreaded what that answer might be._

_**_

Laxus had returned to the hospital, with Mira promising to come by and visit, and there had been something in her voice that told him that she expected something to have changed by that point, and he envied her optimism as he looked up at the building that now held his entire life and hope.

Evergreen and Bickslow were still there, sat either side of Freed and Laxus merely lifted an eyebrow as he realised that they had pushed their chairs in close, ignoring the protective barrier. He didn’t ask if there was a change, the answer written in their expressions and the still figure on the bed. Still, he managed a strained smile for them, as he moved to join them, Bickslow abandoning his seat and moving to join Evergreen on her side of the bed, letting the Dragon-slayer move in close and take Freed’s hand once more. _Make sure he has a reason to keep fighting,_ Mira’s voice echoed, and he lifted Freed’s hand to his lips and kissed it, before meeting Bickslow and Evergreen’s gaze for a moment. “Hey Freed,” his voice wavered for a moment, as his gaze shifted to Freed’s face and paused because the blankness that had lingered since the Demon’s brief awakening had been replaced by the slightest furrowing of Freed’s brow. _Freed, are you fighting?_ He didn’t point it out, didn’t want to give the other two false hope, but he couldn’t stop his own heart from skipping a beat, his grip on Freed’s hand tightening. “I want you to know that we’re still here, that we’re okay…and that we’re going to be here, waiting, as long as you need us. So, take all the time you need and come back to us.” His heart rebelled at those words, but he meant them, realised that he’d already made that promise without realising. Part of him had admitted defeat, had surrendered the moment he felt Freed give up, but another part of him, the stubborn part that Freed had claimed so often to love had been clinging to a desperate hope that this wasn’t over, and Mira had known.

Evergreen and Bickslow shared a long glance, and then the latter reached out, placing his hand over Ever’s where she was holding Freed’s other hand. “You’re not getting rid of us that easily,” Bickslow added, and Evergreen gave a watery chuckle and elbowed him, before looking at Freed as well.

“You’re stuck with us, Captain…”

Laxus snorted, and he was about to point out that sounded a little more like a threat than anything else when he felt a flutter of movement against his fingers. _No._ He almost didn’t look, terrified that Mira’s words had given him too much hope and that his imagination was playing on that, just had it had played on what she’d told them about the lab. Then he felt it again, and this time Evergreen grasped looking towards where his hands were wrapped around Freed’s. He looked down, just in time to see Freed’s pinky finger twitch, and his heart did a complicated dance in his chest, as his gaze immediately darted to Freed’s face, eyes widening as he realised that the furrowing had become a frown.

“Freed?” Laxus couldn’t quell the hope that roared to life in his chest, cavernous in the void that had held sway for so long, and he could breathe as Freed’s eyes danced beneath closed lids. _Please,_ he squeezed Freed’s hand, trying to anchor him, to reassure him that he was there, and there was another flutter of movement. “Come on Freed, you can do it,” he murmured encouragingly, leaning forward and feeling the other two mirroring on him, and the room was holding its breath again, but now there was a hopeful air to it. One that kicked up a gear, as Freed’s other hand twitched, fingers curling against his friends’.

“Freed,” Evergreen called, and there were already tears on her cheeks, and Bickslow was grinning for the first time in days as he echoed her, and Laxus felt Freed’s finger twitch stronger than before.

“You’re safe,” he murmured. _Give him a reason to keep fighting._ “You can come back to us now, it’s safe, you’re safe, and we’re safe.” He knew Freed, knew that he would fight to stay away if he thought he was going to be a threat to them, and for a terrifying moment, he thought that he had pushed too hard and to fast, because Freed stilled, still frowning, but his eyes were stilling and his grip lax again, and he bit back a protest. _I will wait as long as it takes, but…_

Freed’s fingers curled this time, as weak as a newborn kitten, but deliberately wrapping around his and Laxus froze, barely breathing, barely daring to hope as Freed’s eyes moved again, no longer just dancing beneath closed lids, but creeping open. At first not enough to even glimpse what colour lay beneath before they fluttered shut, and it was a moment or two before he tried again, just enough to reveal a sliver of colour and Laxus’ heart twisted in his chest as he realised that they didn’t match. One dark, one turquoise and he stiffened. “Freed?” He asked cautiously, felt rather than saw Bickslow and Evergreen match his tension. Freed’s eyes closed again and then opened again, a little wider this time, gaze unfocused, but now there was no missing the fact that one eye was purplish-black, while the other was his normal, much-missed colour. But, it was different, Laxus realised after a moment. Unlike before or when he used his magic, the sclera wasn’t dark, it was the iris that had changed darkened to black, and veined with purple the Dragon-slayer realised as he leaned in close, freezing when Freed flinched and shrank back before blinking up at him.

“Freed?” He repeated.

Freed blinked again, heavy and uncoordinated and then the mis-matched gaze drifted between them, and his frown deepened, as though he was trying to understand what he was seeing and failing to connect the dots. Ignoring his discomfort and worry about the eyes, Laxus squeezed his hand, trying to draw his attention back to him. After a moment, Freed’s attention shifted back to him, focusing slightly. “Laxus…” he rasped, voice hoarse from disuse and worse, Laxus thought, seeing the pain that passed over his partner’s face and squeezing his hand once more. Bickslow was already moving, retrieving the water that they’d kept topped up and as cool as possible in what they’d thought was a vain hope until now. While Laxus moved forward, making sure that Freed could see what he was doing, as he reached out and lifted him up so that he could sip from the cup Bickslow held for him.

It was evident that even that exhausted him, and he only managed a few sips before slumping with a tiny shake of his head to show that he was done. Laxus didn’t fight him, that could come later, and instead, he carefully settled him once more, and reached up to brush his fingers over one pale cheek, pausing as he realised for the first time, that the skin wasn’t as smooth as it had been, faint scales beneath his touch. He refused to flinch, letting his touch linger as Freed blinked at him, looking astonished by the gentle touch and Laxus’ eyes narrowed, just as Freed spoke.

“…I’m sorry…” It was a whisper, but the emotion in it took Laxus’ breath away and forgetting that they weren’t alone, and everything else, leaning forward to silence him with a kiss. Careful to keep it gentle, lingering for a moment, but Freed was unmoving and shocked, and he sighed, and pulled away, reaching up to hold Freed’s face in gentle hands.

“Don’t you dare apologise,” he whispered, soft but fierce.

“But…”

“You came back,” Laxus cut him off, meeting the mis-matched gaze without hesitation. He knew they would need to investigate that, to work out if it was permanent or just a lingering effect of the Demon being in control for so long or the barrier particles. But he also knew that for all the uneasiness he’d felt at the sight at first, that it was Freed he was facing now. His Freed, exhausted and weak, raw from everything that happened, but wonderfully, painfully human. Knew it with the same certainty that he had known that Freed had given up, something else they would need to talk about and work through.

There was a lot hanging between them, shadows darkening Freed’s eyes and expression, broken promises heavy in Laxus’ chest and memories haunting them both, but Freed was there, blinking up at him, exhausted and changed, but himself once more. Not just alive, but back with them, with him, and right then as he felt the fleeting pressure of Freed leaning into his touch that was all that mattered. “That’s all that matters,” he finished, leaning in to press a kiss to Freed’s temple, before resting their heads together, Freed was still, radiating wariness and guilt. “You protected us, and we’re all home now,” he whispered, remembering his order from a lifetime ago, words spoken without any idea of what he was setting in motion and Freed quivered beneath him, and Laxus added. “You did your job.” There was a pause, and he thought that Freed had forgotten how to breathe he was so still and tense, and he was just about to pull away worried when Freed’d breathing hitched with a sob, and then another and another.

Laxus moved then, wrapping his arms around his partner as tightly as he could, mindful of the lingering injuries as he settled on the edge of the bed so he could pull Freed close, letting Freed hide his face against him, and feeling the tears soaking into his shoulder. He made no effort to shush him, holding him close and running his hands up and down Freed’s back, lifting his gaze to the others and seeing the question in their eyes, and he gave a tiny nod as Freed pressed into him. The bed dipped immediately on the other side, Evergreen and Bickslow joined the hug. The three of them moving to make sure that Freed was in the middle, and while he stiffened for a moment, and Laxus caught a brief glimpse of his eyes wide with shock before he all but crumpled into their embrace with a choking sob and a tiny, broken whisper. “Thank you…”

_He was home and human once more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long with this, some of it had to be rewritten and October was a washout writing wise. This fic is now complete, although there may well be a one-shot sequel to come in the next week or so.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 3 will be up this afternoon. Chapters 4-6 will be up tomorrow, and then the last three will be up on Friday.


End file.
